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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174937">The Beast and the Harlot</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiquidLobotomy/pseuds/LiquidLobotomy'>LiquidLobotomy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Good Man Goes to War [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blame the newest addition to the barbershop, Canon-Typical Violence, Come Eating, Explicit later on, F/M, Flynn is having a very bad day, Gross Misunderstandings, Hangover, Hiding in Plain Sight, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Bedsharing, Return of the garlic butter crab claws, Surprise gender swap, The Feast of Winter Veil, being mathias is suffering, faerie tales, long game</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:22:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiquidLobotomy/pseuds/LiquidLobotomy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Flynn is having an overwhelmingly bad day after waking up to a raging hangover and his most valuable possessions missing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw, Taelia Fordragon/Anduin Wrynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Good Man Goes to War [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Gift and a Curse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><em>Merchants and captains of the world<br/>Sailors navigators too<br/>Will weep and mourn this loss<br/>With her sins piled to the sky<br/>The Beast and the Harlot</em><br/>Recommended listening: Beast and the Harlot - Avenged Sevenfold</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Light, I’ve missed you. </em>
</p><p>Flynn hummed, smiling brightly with everything he had, running down the gangplank and thrusting himself into his mate’s arms, feeling the soft rumbling laugh down to his toes, through the layers of leather and linen between them. He’d been gone on the training contract with the <em>Middenwake</em> for three weeks, but it might as well have been three fucking years for all the good it did him. He even smiled into the kiss that Mathias was eager to bestow on him, all tongue and lowered inhibitions, hands grasping anywhere they could. Neither could give a good Light damn as to who could be gathered around the glimmering Port of Stormwind, not seeing an inch of the salt-white stone of the pavement for the crowd gathered in welcome of the vessel.</p><p>Wait. Hang on. That’s… not quite right.</p><p>He furrowed his brow, his eyes still tight shut. Of course it was a dream, fevered and fogged through a wash of the alcohol imbibed the night before. The <em>Middenwake</em> had ported the evening before in Boralus, for one, and Mathias would <em>never</em> exploit himself to that sort of public display of affection, no matter how hard Flynn tried, for two.</p><p>Fairwind sat up and stretched, his head dizzy with a hell of a hangover. He ran his fingers through his mussed hair and tried to rub the grit from his eyes. His mouth tasted like day old wharf rat and a small cabbage farm, stuffed with several bolls of cotton. <em>So this is what today is gonna be like, then,</em> he thought to himself. He knew Mathias was going to be the left side of pissed when he stumbled through the Stormwind portal drenched to the gills in a liquor-induced stupor.</p><p>Resigning to his fate, the captain swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood a little too quickly, his sea-legs not quite cooperating as he meandered over to the washbasin on his chest of drawers, letting out a noiseless yawn and scratching at his side. He scrubbed a hand down his face before the mirror, his hand stilling at his mouth, feeling around his chin in confusion. Had he really shaved his beloved bottlebrush and chin-scruff off in his inebriation? Just how far gone had he been the night before in his celebration of returning a full day ahead of schedule? Slowly, Flynn opened his eyes, waiting for his vision to clear in the silvered glass nailed to the wall, his breath gasping and his heart thundering in his very naked, very <em>buoyant</em> chest.</p><p>He was pretty sure that the ear-shattering scream that erupted from his mouth could be heard on both sides of the harbor, down through the Tradewinds, and possibly into Dampwick Ward.</p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p> </p><p>Mathias stood next to the portal inside Greyfang Enclave, awaiting his companions to join him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He nodded to a few adventurers who acknowledged him, not wanting to make small talk. His visit to Dalaran was to be brief as he was itching to be back in Stormwind when Flynn crossed the portal. It had been three unbearingly long weeks. </p><p>It was coming on nearly two months since everything happened, and while he was fit to go back to duties with a clear head, he hadn’t come out of the experience completely unscathed. There was too much he knew now, good and bad, and he found himself a changed man. He had made a promise to himself, and to Flynn, that he wasn’t going to take as much for granted as he had before. As Spymaster, he even set about changing a few outdated regulations within SI:7 to ensure that none of his agents fell to the same kind of madness he had borne for the better part of thirty years.</p><p>If Anduin could be a different king, then by the Light, he could be a different spymaster.</p><p>His ears ticked at the sound of shuffling through the portal. He only offered a side glance, kicking off the wall at the appearance of his newly appointed recruiter and a familiar dark-haired young man in civilian garb.</p><p>“We’re going to be late,” the young man pressed as he approached Mathias. The spymaster glanced about, checking to see if any of the passersby noticed anything amiss. Bless Jaina. Her concealment charm was nigh impenetrable.</p><p>“We’ve enough time to get to the meeting point,” he muttered with a tick of his head towards the high road. “I take it Taelia holds the watch at the moment?”</p><p>“I do,” said Rell in his gentle rumble of a voice. “We’ll switch once we’re downstairs.”</p><p>Mathias nodded. “Now or never, Jerek.” </p><p>The three crossed the city swiftly, Shaw in the lead to deflect wayward travellers from approaching. Dalaran had become a bustle of activity again since the city had moved back to its position above Crystalsong Forest, not too far from Acherus Hold. The broken sky had given him pause when he had arrived, but nothing of note about the activities as of late had crossed his or Anduin’s desk in concern. Yet.</p><p>They entered <em>Glorious Goods</em> ten minutes ahead of the bell. Shaw flashed his Insignia at Jack with a low “they’re with me”. The shopkeep promptly flicked a switch beneath the counter, revealing the pocket door in the side wall. Before they descended the stairwell, he murmured for his disguised young companion to remain close. As they made their way through the darkened halls of the Underbelly, Shaw could feel the eyes of the deviants loitering about, a few giving scathing glances at himself and one or two sliding lecherous grins at the young man a pace behind him. He paused to place a possessive hand on Jerek’s shoulder when a particularly foppish elf approached with proposition in his fel green eyes.</p><p>Mathias had arrived in Dalaran three days previous to carry out a request set to him privately by the King. <em>I would like to arrange a private meeting to hopefully mend some of the recourse of the past generations. Quietly and once you’re back to your duties of course.</em> Doing so within the city walls would have been impossible; even with the girl’s amnesty, she would never have accepted the offer. He had to approach the subject carefully, tactfully. Neutral ground, and for that, he’d have to beseech Jorach.</p><p><em>“You’re playing with fire, Mathias. A meeting between the King of Stormwind and VanCleef’s daughter. You know that she will murder you </em>and<em> him, if left alone in the same room. Doesn’t matter if it’s here, Westfall, or Stormwind.”</em></p><p><em>“Then what do you suggest? It’s a delicate matter, Jorach. </em>No one<em> can know about this arrangement.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“If you’re insistent on being present, perhaps a representative for her as well. Someone she can trust.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Vanessa doesn’t trust anyone.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I would sit for Vanessa. She won’t toe out of line if I’m present.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know, the King was explicit that only the three of us would be privy to this information.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s the only way to ensure Anduin’s safety. And yours.”</em>
</p><p>Soon enough, they found themselves at the bookshelf leading to the Chamber of Shadows, the elite quarters for the Uncrowned. Only a scant few of the members were given clearance to the chamber, giving the spymaster a bit of relief that they wouldn’t be disturbed. Most of the leadership were out on their own affairs and assignments for the greater good of their home factions and Azeroth. Even the Shadowblades, the elite team that assisted in dragging him out of Hell and unveiling the plot of replacing him with a dreadlord for the better part of the war on the Legion, were off on other duties. Shaw nodded at Rell, who turned his back to wait outside as he pulled the candlestick, revealing the steps leading down into the meeting room, lingering at the bottom of the steps awaiting the acknowledgement of the Uncrowned’s Shadowleader.</p><p>Jorach sat at the head of the grand estate table, free of the usual bountiful feast that always seemed to adorn the lacquered wood, his elbows propped with his hands clasped and fingers steepled as he waited patiently on them. Vanessa VanCleef sat to his right, glowering even as she turned her attention to him and his companion. Mathias didn’t fail to notice that the bandana that clung about her neck was not hers, but the one he had passed to her so many months ago.</p><p>Edwin's bandana.</p><p>“Leave us,” Ravenholdt commanded to the archivists and bards loitering around the edges of the chamber. Once they were free from prying eyes and eavesdroppers, the door sealing again, the elder assassin gestured to the seats to his left. Jerek took the seat opposite of Vanessa, Mathias to his left. “You would do well to drop your disguise, lad. There are to be no secrets or deceptions in this council; I gave my word.”</p><p>Mathias flicked a glance to the young man. “It’s alright. On the table, if you would please.”</p><p>Carefully, Jerek reached into his pocket, pulling out a burnished gold fob watch adorned with concentric circles. He placed it onto the table in front of him and off of his person. His fingertips slipped from the metal and his appearance changed before them, dark hair turning to gold, hazel eyes to bright cerulean blue and golden sun-touched skin to light peachy pale.</p><p>Vanessa clicked her jaw in disgust. “No deceptions, Jorach?” she spat. “You call <em>this</em> no deceptions?”</p><p>“Peace, girl,” Ravenholdt soothed. “I’ve been assured that this meeting is not malicious in nature. Mathias?” The spymaster shook his head in agreement. “Hear what they have to say.” </p><p>Vanessa slumped in her chair indignantly, crossing her arms. “Fine,” she muttered evenly. Mathias fought to keep the small grin threatening to twitch at the corners of his lips from manifesting. For the briefest of moments, he could see Edwin sat in the seat, pouting for not getting his way.</p><p>Anduin cleared his throat, pulling a dossier from his satchel as well as his gnomish self-inking quill, setting it gingerly to the side of his file. He inhaled a sharp breath as he began. “Ms Vancleef,” he addressed her formally. “It has been brought to my attention that you have already been made aware of the contents of a private incident report of Master Shaw’s—”</p><p>Vanessa snapped her attention at Mathias. “You gave me a <em>copy?</em>” she snarled.</p><p>“You think me foolish enough to hand you the original?” he retorted with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Let him continue.”</p><p>Anduin tilted his chin. “I, too, have looked into this file, as well as other documents and records, making several conclusions of my own.” The girl scoffed and rolled her eyes. Anduin opened his mouth, only to shut it with a firm press of his lips into a line. Mathias could tell he was contemplating his words carefully; he’d seen the young king do it numerous times in meetings when he was trying to placate the elders of his own advisory council. </p><p>“I come to you, Ms VanCleef, without agenda,” Anduin began again. “I do not ask for forgiveness for my father and the hatred that drove him for years. I do not ask for forgiveness for the filth and taint that was whispered into the ears of the nobles that led to rebellion.” He paused, Mathias catching the flick of his glance. “Dare I say, I would not expect to receive it. All I can ask is to give you a bit of respite to ease your long standing grief, as I have offered it to Master Shaw.”</p><p>Mathias heaved a soft, cleansing sigh as Anduin pulled a parchment from the dossier, his own unmarked file on Edwin. He watched as the King signed the left line with his looping signature before passing it to him. </p><p>“Mathias, if you would, please?” </p><p>“Gladly, Your Majesty.” Shaw took the pen in his left hand and left his mark proudly under his scripted name. He in turn passed the parchment over to Ravenholdt. “Jorach, as witness?”</p><p>The Shadowleader took the document in hand, his eyes roving over the script, sharply lifting his gaze at the two men to his left. Both nodded at him confidently. Jorach took the pen and left his signature, flipping the document around and sliding it before the woman gravely.</p><p>Mathias watched as Vanessa bent her head over the paper, the venom and fight leaving her, replaced by wide eyes. Her lips parted in shock before meeting Shaw’s eyes.</p><p>“It’s real,” he assured her softly. “It’s late, but it’s real.”</p><p>She turned her attention back to Anduin, who offered her a small smile. “You’re pardoning him?”</p><p>“Pardoned, actually,” the King corrected. “About two months ago. Discreetly, of course. An official record is filed in the city, Mathias has his copy, and this one is yours. No one outside of this room is to know of this, not even my closest advisors. It would complicate matters. It makes it no less authentic or warranted, however. It makes your family's name cleared.”</p><p>The girl stared at the parchment before her, worrying her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Why? Why now?”</p><p>“I offer my apologies for this not being addressed any sooner. Several indiscretions were brought to my attention just  recently. Indiscretions that were of no fault of your father or the Stonemasons. It is my understanding that they were <em>good</em> people, hard-working men and women serving the kingdom and quite frankly the Crown turned its back on them. I am <em>not</em> my father, Ms VanCleef. I can’t turn a blind eye to that.</p><p>“About a year ago, we sent a stipend to Westfall. I do not expect that to be repaid. By your leave, I’d like to do that again, extending that reach to Darkshire and Redridge as well. With the armistice, the coffers are replenishing and I’d like to see that our people thrive. Without the skewed influence of the nobility.”</p><p>“I, too, will be adding into that stimulus,” Mathias added, “if it would not offend.”</p><p>Vanessa furrowed her brow. “It feels wrong, somehow. Like a bribe. Something to keep us under your control.”</p><p>“I believe you will find,” the Spymaster treaded carefully, as he had anticipated such a response, “the Kingdom is under a more compassionate Crown. There is truth in his words that there are <em>no</em> ulterior motives.”</p><p>“And I don’t expect you to be agreeable right away,” Anduin continued. “I understand that trust should be earned. I implore you to take your time in considering my offer, and when you are ready, no matter then answer, I think Lord Ravenholdt would be forthcoming in delivering your response through Master Shaw.”</p><p>“Yes, of course,” Jorach replied. “Your father would be pleased,” he added softly.</p><p>Mathias ducked his eyes. Yes, perhaps Ed would be.</p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p> </p><p>Tandred closed the door to his cabin with the heel of his boot, a cup of fresh coffee in one hand and a stack of parchments in the other. He lowered himself onto the deep teal couch, dropping the documents onto the low table while taking a swig of coffee. He rolled his shoulders and pushed his chin with his knuckles to crack his jaw, letting loose the morning tension in his joints. </p><p>Proudmoore was not much inclined to keeping warboards and strategy tables in his private quarters. That was better served in the navigation room across the hall, where his crew had full access. Spending the better part of his days aboard his vessel, he made sure he had his creature comforts, whether he be on his own or entertaining in his room (not that he did much of that, wincing at the thought). </p><p>He flicked through the morning requisitions, a list of supplies needed before they sailed out to Kalimdor after the Winter Veil Ball, contracts for both Jaina and Anduin to be filled, errands to and from Stormwind for Cyrus. Even without the drums of war sounding across the Great Sea, the <em>Melody</em> was kept with wind in her sails. Tandred liked it that way, never one to stay idle for too long. </p><p>The thundering knock of his first mate sounded at the door, prompting a command to enter from Proudmoore. It never failed to surprise him, and he’d long since gotten past the startles to the power behind her sturdy frame.</p><p>“Er, Cap’n?” Rosaline poked her head in the door. “We got a bit of a situation on deck,” she said with a wince.</p><p>“What kind of situation?” Tandred raised an eyebrow quizzically.</p><p>“Some bonny demanded to board, spitting and swearing up, down, and sideways that she needed to talk to you.</p><p>Proudmoore rolled his eyes. “Do me a solid and send her on her way, Ros. I really don’t have the mental fortitude for that kind of shit this morning.”</p><p>“Thing is,” the first mate worried her lip, “she’s decked out in Captain Fairwind’s togs.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Head to bloody tail, all the way to his boots and greatcoat.”</p><p>Tandred groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. He knew he had left Flynn in a right state the night before, but this was a rather large bit of trouble that neither captain could afford at the moment, Fairwind especially. </p><p>“Fine,” he groused. “Send her in, Ros.”</p><p>He sat up and tried to make himself halfway presentable, straightening his collar. Rosaline opened the door and let their impromptu guest into the chamber, snicking the door as quietly as she could behind her. There was a fire in the girl’s eyes and Tandred’s breath caught.</p><p>Tidemother take him and fuck him until he forgot the name his father gave him, but this girl was <em>beyond</em> fucking gorgeous.</p><p>Tandred gave her a good look over, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. As sure as his first mate had told, she was clad in Fairwind’s gear, all of which dwarfed her small frame. Her hair fell about her in a glorious auburn tangle that reached her waist, and her sun-gold skin peaked out from the loose opening of Flynn’s favorite sea green shirt, revealing the slightest curve of her unbound breast.</p><p>Tides, <em>help</em> him.</p><p>“Listen, Tand, I’m in a bit of a spot—”</p><p>“Look, <em>sweetheart</em>,” Proudmoore held up a hand stopping her further. “I’d love to say it’s none of my business what you and Captain Fairwind got up to last night after the pub, but unfortunately, it somewhat is. You see, I know that he says sweet nothings and is pretty to look at. From the stories I've heard, he's a gay old romp in the sack. However, the Captain is a bit <em>attached</em> at the moment, to a fairly dangerous Alliance higher-up. Honestly, if his mate finds out about,” Tandred waved a hand in her general direction, “whatever rough and tumble the two of you shared, he’s going to hop a portal and slit <em>all</em> our throats. So, let me just see what I can do to set a stipend and let you <em>quietly</em> be on your way.”</p><p>He glanced up, finding her jaw open before her face screwed up in indignation. She stormed up to him, grabbing his shirt in her tiny fist and cornered him into the couch with a forceful menace that he’d only seen directed to his best mate after scorning a single-night lover. </p><p>“<em>Fuck</em> you, Tandred!” she exclaimed. “Really, <em>this</em> is what you think of me, you great bloody wanker? Tell me, do you think I’m smart enough to <em>knock myself up?</em>”</p><p>It took several moments for Proudmoore’s brain to finally catch up. The storm grey eyes, the splatter of barely there freckles across the bronzed nose that was only slightly crooked, the lilt of the familiar cadence of her accent, albeit higher than he was accustomed. He sat and looked up at the fair maid glaring daggers at him beneath the fall of salt-waved hair the exact color of...</p><p>“Oh, shit,” he breathed.</p><p>“Yeah, <em>oh shit</em> is right.”</p><p>“Flynn?”</p><p>“Figured it out, then, have you?”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>Flynn blew out a defeated sigh and turned to flop down on the couch next to him, running his hands over his face, up through his hair. “Fuck if I know.”</p><p>Tandred chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “This doesn’t have to do with that barmaid from last night, does it?”</p><p>Flynn scrunched his nose. “What barmaid?”</p><p>“The barmaid,” Proudmoore repeated, gesturing with another wave of his hand. “The one who was practically laid upon your lap when I left. You called her,” he paused, snapping his fingers irritably, “Wendy, I think.”</p><p>“I swear by the Tides, I have no <em>clue</em> what you’re talking about.”</p><p>That was concerning. “What exactly <em>do</em> you remember?” Tandred asked cautiously. “‘Bout last night?”</p><p>“We pulled into port, secured the <em>‘Wake</em>, you and I went to the <em>Harbor</em> for drinks…” Flynn trailed off, blinking several times with a tilt of his head, “then I woke up in my cabin missing my cock and balls,” he lamented.</p><p>“To be fair,” Tandred said pointedly, “they were traded out for a pretty decent pair of tits.”</p><p>“Not helping, Tand.” </p><p>Proudmoore puffed his cheeks and blew out a slow breath. “Say, aren’t you supposed to be hopping a portal back to your fair spymaster?”</p><p>Fairwind pinched the bridge of his nose. “And say what, exactly? ‘Guess what, Mat! I’ve figured out a <em>fantastic</em> way to <em>bear your children</em>.’ Yes, brilliant deduction. I’m sure that would go over with the poor dove just <em>swimmingly</em>.”</p><p>The two sat in uncomfortable silence. Tandred drummed his fingers against his knees, and he could see that Flynn was also fidgeting under nervous energy. He reached up and started playing with his moustache, earning a quiet groan from his companion. He ignored it in favor of the plan he was trying to formulate.</p><p>“Alright, here’s what we do,” he announced. “You’re going to write a message that I can send off with my cabin boy that you’ve taken another contract, keep you here and out of anyone’s peripherals, <em>especially</em> Shaw.” </p><p>“He won’t buy it, Tand,” Flynn warned.</p><p>“He will, you just have to make it convincing.” He trudged on. “I have a meeting with Cyrus upon the bellchime. I’ll try to drag it out as long as I can so you can sneak into Tae’s flat and pilfer some clothes and a binding that fits properlike.” Tandred leaned in and took a sniff. “And take a bath in that fancy shower of hers. You may look pretty, but you still smell like this side of Helya’s left tit.”</p><p>Flynn scowled at him. “And this… <em>curse?</em>”</p><p>“I was getting to that, actually.” Proudmoore replied, annoyed. “After you’ve cleaned up and snuck back out, we’ll talk to my sister. If it’s a curse, she can most likely break it.” </p><p>“She better,” Fairwind squawked. “The ball is tomorrow night and I’m expected to be on Mathias’ arm, and <em>not</em> looking like <em>this</em>.”</p><p>“It's just a curse, mate. Jaina can handle it, I <em>know</em> she will. Have you put back together with your precious dangly bits in tact, safe as a well-guarded keep.” Tandred flicked through the parchments on his table until he found a blank, handing it and his gnomish self-inking quill over. “Go on, get that message written.”</p><p>Flynn snatched the pen from his friend’s hand and quickly penned out the lie reluctantly to the page, griping the entire time about the change in his handwriting. He rolled the message deftly and sealed it with Tandred’s wax, pressing the hilt of his boot dagger into the seal before handing it back to Proudmoore. The bell chimed in the distance.</p><p>“Time to get moving,” Tandred said as he clapped Fairwind’s knee, his larger hand covering the delicate cap of bone easily. “You’ve got a hot shower to enjoy.”</p><p>“Somehow, I <em>highly</em> doubt that,” Flynn groused with a roll of his eyes.</p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>Mathias and a disguised Anduin trudged into the King’s private study upon the midday bell. It had been a heavy morning, and he was sorely looking forward to falling back into his bed soon with his lover at his side. His stomach fluttered in anticipation of the captain strolling into their flat, a lopsided grin on his face crinkling the edges of his eyes and several tall tales of his most recent adventures at sea. He could almost smell the edges of brined saltwater and soap and <em>taste</em> the whiskey on Flynn’s tongue.</p><p>They found Taelia occupying her favorite space perched in the window, her brow furrowed as she thumbed over a scrolled parchment. She lifted her head at their approach, inhaling a sharp breath. </p><p>“How’d it go?”</p><p>Mathias surmised that she was not aware of the nature of the meeting, just that they were to commune with advisors of the Kirin Tor. He knew that it pained Anduin to lie to her, but if they were to gain trust with Vanessa VanCleef, they had to keep true to their word that the knowledge of the pardon was to be kept in the strictest of confidences. It pained him, too, knowing that Waltion had let her in, therefore he had as well.</p><p>“About as expected,” the spymaster replied as Anduin placed an arm around her and breathed against her hair. "Better than, actually." She gave a shaky smile and extended her free arm. </p><p>It still felt foreign to him, even after all these months, accepting affection unconditionally. He gave a small one shouldered shrug and gave in to her for a short moment, pulling back to not intrude on his King. His eyes dropped to the scroll in her hand and he raised an eyebrow curiously. </p><p>“What’s this?” He gestured towards the parchment.</p><p>“Oh, um,” she stammered, “a courier from Boralus arrived. Here, I’m not sure what to make of this.”</p><p>Mathias took the paper and skimmed the page, the script troubling him. </p><p>
  <em>M-<br/>
Gone on another quick errand for Cyrus. Too good to pass up. Be home in a few days.<br/>
Trust me.<br/>
-F</em>
</p><p>Shaw’s stomach bottomed into a pit. The handwriting was Flynn’s, that much he could determine, but something about it was <em>off</em>. The lines were too thin, too delicate, free of some of the splotches that were characteristic of his Kul Tiran heavy hand. And the words, after three weeks at sea, why would he go right back out without seeing him? Usually, the captain was scrambling to get back home just as surely as he felt the pull of the ocean calling to him.</p><p>“Something’s wrong,” Taelia muttered. “I can feel it in my gut.”</p><p>Mathias nodded. “I agree.”</p><p>“Do you think he’s gone missing, love?” Anduin asked, running his fingers through her hair soothingly. </p><p>“I’m not sure,” she confessed, flicking her glance between the men. “It’s certainly worrisome.”</p><p>“I know that we’re not due at Proudmoore Keep until tomorrow, but if you feel it’s dire, perhaps the two of you should take the portal early. See if you can track him down? Val and I can meet you tomorrow afternoon.”</p><p>Taelia nodded. “Mathias?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Shaw replied absently, still skimming the page. “Go get your bag, Lass. I’ll meet you at the portal.” He folded the paper and tucked it into a pouch on his right pauldron. </p><p>
  <em>Trust me.</em>
</p><p>For the first time, those words coming from his lover frightened him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No really, this idea to squeeze into the series came from the damned barbershop. I switched my manly outlaw rogue into a female for about four hours before my head-canon started screaming at me to put it back. Needless to say, it amused the fuck out of me. </p><p>Comments welcomed, appreciated, and work to get Flynn's dick put back in place.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Magician, Reversed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>This shining city built of gold<br/>A far cry from innocence<br/>There's more than meets the eye 'round here<br/>Look to the waters of the deep<br/>A city of evil</em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N - for all intents and purposes from here on out, Flynn’s pronouns are still going to be He/him, unless the POV is of someone who doesn’t explicitly know that it’s Flynn, then it will be she/her… if that makes sense.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Flynn sat on a barrel outside of the harbormaster’s office, attempting to scratch a spot just below his shoulder blades against the sandy brick of the building. He had thrown together a quick sea-bag of various clothes items he could grab from Taelia’s drawers, leaving his unwashed gear in a small pile next to her ensuite door. It devastated him to leave his greatcoat, but at the moment, it hung on him like a mizzen mast sail and was all too conspicuous. Not to mention that Tandred was right: it smelled like the bottom of a bilge tank.</p><p>The shower had done him a world of good, and he tried like hell not to sing under the glorious spray of fresh hot water like he was wont to do on a fair day. He turned up his nose at some of the various concoctions his friend had lining the shelves of the bath (this one too sickly sweet like a damned faerie cake, this one too much like seastalks laid on a lover's gravestone), until finding a delicately scented hair-wash that he’d picked up for her in Booty Bay as a souvenir. It was made with seasalt and coconut oil, and smelled like the white sands of the shore line  on a sunny day. Bloody shame she hadn’t used much of it, he supposed, but it did work out in his favor at any rate. </p><p>He had located a binding easy enough, fiddling with it a few times before it sat somewhat comfortably, if not itchy across his ribs and chest. Satisfied with the perk of his newly acquired breasts, he covered them with a white cotton button down and one of Tae’s under-the-bust vests. The only trousers he could find sat low on his hips and clung desperately to his legs easily enough to slip into a pair of spare boots. He finished it off with his scabbard belt holding his cutlasses and his favorite beaded shell necklace he had pilfered in Freehold ages ago.</p><p>Before disappearing back through the window to climb down the escape ladder, he had assessed his appearance in Tae’s floor mirror, fingering through the soft, clean waves of his unruly mane, still damp to the touch. He was a little disappointed he couldn’t find even a strip of leather to tie back his tresses, resigned to let them fall loose about his shoulders.</p><p>He fidgeted with the strap of the satchel, trying again to scritch between his shoulders through Taelia’s woolen coat. He wasn’t unfamiliar with bindings and corsets. Tides knew he had <em>removed</em> plenty of them in his time, and he had the peeling off of Mathias’ ridiculously laced armor down to a science. He just never imagined having to stuff his own skin into one, or how <em>chafing</em> the coarse fabric could be against his skin.</p><p>As he waited for Tandred to finish up with Cyrus, and bless the lad for buying him the time, he sat and people watched. The harbor wasn’t nearly as busy as it had been during the war, but there were still a good handful of familiar faces who had stayed on in Kul Tiras. Some he had recognized from dragging them off on azerite hauls during the better part of the war. Good folk, mostly socially awkward, but good nonetheless.</p><p>The clink of several coins hitting the pavement caught his ear, dragging his attention back to the steps leading to the office. A rail thin sprig of a man in dark attire crouched on the step, bending over several gold pence. He was just about to extract himself from his perch to assist when he noticed that the bespectacled chap wasn’t reaching to pick them up, but was using clear cement to adhere them to the pavement. Oh, <em>that</em> bloke.</p><p>“Oi,” he called sharply, startling the warlock. “Why don’t you jog on somewhere else, yeah?” He wanted to wince; how the fuck did Tae manage to scare men twice her size with a voice as shrill as a bell?</p><p>The warlock stood to his full height. He couldn’t be much taller than Shaw, Flynn knew that any other day he’d have a good half a head on him, and his eyebrow quirked behind his shadow goggles. The shock of crimson hair bobbed, seeming to drink in Fairwind’s appearance before smirking. </p><p>“Well, if <em>that</em> isn’t a nasty bit of business you’ve got going on there, hm?” the warlock quipped as his imp leapt to crouch on his shoulder. He paused to lean casually against the handrail, crossing his arms. </p><p>Flynn scowled. “May want to pick up those coins before the harbormaster catches you desecrating his front stoop,” he sneered. “He’s a might bigger than you. I mean, Cyrus is a fucking Borean mammoth. Could break your scrawny arse <em>and</em> your ankle biter in half before you could set off a bloody curse.”</p><p>By the time Tandred appeared in the doorway, Flynn already had the warlock’s lapels in his fists and was snarling every colorful curse he had in his arsenal as the warlock cackled jovially.</p><p>Proudmoore grabbed the back of Flynn’s coat as he passed, intent on dragging him away from making a further scene, murmuring an apology to the warlock while shoving Fairwind down the promenade. He held out an arm to catch him by the waist when he tried to stomp back again.</p><p>“Fuck, you’re feisty as a broad,” Tandred chuckled as he manhandled the girl into turning around to walk away. “You’re supposed to remain anonymous, Flynn, not be drawing more attention to yourself.”</p><p>“M’not feisty, I’m <em>frustrated</em>,” Flynn muttered irritably, “and this binding is uncomfortable as fuck all.” He punctuated his statement with a wriggle of his shoulders.</p><p>Tandred let out a hearty chuckle and clapped a strong hand across Fairwind’s back. On any other occasion, Flynn’s typically sturdy frame could weather the gesture without a flinch. As it were, he found himself lurching forward, turning sharply to toss his friend a glare, earning another rumble of laughter in turn.</p><p>“You probably have it winched too tight.”</p><p>“But my tits look <em>fantastic</em>. Probably even better than most of the tarts I’ve bedded.” He paused. “And some of the blokes, come to think of it,” he murmured thoughtfully.</p><p>“Come on, then, minx,” Proudmoore teased with a shake of his head, placing his hand gently on the small of his friend’s back to guide him forward. “Fortunately for you, <em>sweetheart</em>—“</p><p>“<em>Please</em>, by the tides, don’t call me that.”</p><p>Tandred bounced on his toes with a broad grin. “As I was saying, I’m supposed to bring a spot of lunch to Jaina and her, er… <em>friend</em>,” he continued, spitting the word in distaste. “I was thinkin’ we could swing through the Shack on the way up to the Keep. What do you say, Fairwind?”</p><p>Flynn stopped and crossed his arms, jutting out a hip just like all the times he’d seen Taelia do to him during one of his many fits of ridiculousness. “You honestly believe that I could possibly think about food right now?” he groused. His stomach betrayed him however, letting out a soft growl.</p><p>Proudmoore slung an arm across his friend’s shoulders and started to lead him down the path again. “Four words for you: Garlic. Butter. Crab. Claws,” Tandred punctuated in a conspiratorial whisper into his ear. He laughed again at the groan that spilled from the girl’s lips as they rounded the corner into Dampwick Ward on the way to Hook Point from the far end of the harbor.</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>Mathias and Taelia stepped out of the dim of the portal room in Boralus, skimming the sun shafts peeking through from the beams of the walkway above and swiftly crossing the back alley towards the harbormaster’s office. The spymaster shifted his pack on his shoulder as he took quick strides, knowing the girl on his heels could keep with his pace. Taking the steps two at a time, his feet ground to a stop as the ships berthed came into view. <em>Tiffin’s Melody</em> sat in the slip that was once occupied by the <em>Wind’s Redemption</em>. </p><p>And sitting next to her, as it did back during the war, berthed the <em>Middenwake</em>. </p><p>“Mathias?” Taelia asked as she nearly bowled into his back. “What is… <em>oh</em>,” she breathed.</p><p>“I think your intuition was correct, Lass,” he muttered with a click of his jaw. “Come on,” he added with a tilt of his head towards the harbormaster’s office. They crossed the threshold of the small office tucked into the corner of the promenade, Taelia reaching for his bag.</p><p>“I’m just gonna run upstairs real quick, make the place a titch presentable, since you’ll be hunkering here tonight— don’t you <em>dare</em> protest,” she chided, holding up her free hand as she shouldered his pack next to hers and disappeared up the steps to her flat.</p><p>Mathias turned and took the steps down into the darkened lodge that served as a makeshift headquarters for the better part of the war, though during that time he had preferred to stay his company upon the <em>Redemption</em>. His heart twinged. The last time he had been in this very room, he had laid eyes on Flynn Fairwind for the first time. The captain had been casually leaning against Cyrus’ desk and blathering on like a drunken idiot before demonstrating his intelligence by reading through a thirty page legal contract in two minutes flat. </p><p>When he began muttering <em>soberly</em>, however, in that lilting, reedy tenor, that was it. Mathias was well and truly fucked. </p><p>Shaw cleared his throat as he approached the desk, earning the attention of the big man with surprise in his eyes. Cyrus passed a document from one pile to his outgoing box before clasping his hands on the mahogany wood and leaning forward.</p><p>“Master Shaw,” he greeted apprehensively. “Didn’t think to hope to see you for a minute. Another war’s not starting up again, is it?”</p><p>Mathias shook his head. “Not at the present, thankfully. I come on a more… <em>personal</em> matter.” He held out the scrolled message he had received earlier, watching as Crestfall skimmed it over. The harbormaster wrinkled his nose, bringing his eyes back up to the spymaster.</p><p>“I haven’t sent Flynn back out on any contract,” Cyrus snorted evenly, handing the parchment back. </p><p>“I can see that,” Shaw replied with a tilt of his head towards the door. “When did you see him last?”</p><p>“Yesterday,” the harbormaster affirmed. “He and Tandred bounced in here to drop off the berthing papers for the <em>‘Wake</em>, then headed off down to the Snug Harbor. They tried to coax me into joining them, but I have far too much to do to go about drinking myself stupid with a pair of dolts the like of those two.”</p><p>Mathias tugged at his goatee thoughtfully. “Do you think Proudmoore is occupying his vessel at the moment?”</p><p>“Eh, most likely he’s at the Keep with his sister preparing for the Ball. I know most of his crew is up there lending a hand.”</p><p>“Mathias?” Shaw turned towards the stairwell, Taelia halfway up the stairs with her head ducked into the room. “You need to come see this.”</p><p>He gave a curt nod to Crestfall before turning on his heel and chasing the girl up the steps towards the flat she shared with her guardian, allowing her to lead him to a room tucked in the corner of the apartment. She stepped aside of the door to allow him to stand in her room. He was at a bit of a loss in foriegn territory; none of his missions and training had entirely prepared him to seek clues within a young woman’s chambers. To be fair, he hadn't even gone through Amber's room when she had passed; he set another agent to the task.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Lass,” he muttered in confusion as he scanned the ransacked room, trying to spy something amiss or at worse, dangerous. “What am I looking at?”</p><p>“Mathias, I’m a <em>cadet</em>, for fuck’s sake,” Taelia admonished. “Do you honestly think I keep quarters like this?”</p><p>“Oh,” he managed sheepishly, blowing out a breath as she shuffled past him.</p><p>“There’s more.” She bit her lip, pulling back the door to the ensuite to reveal a rumpled pile of familiar clothing. Mathias came forward and crouched, picking up Flynn’s greatcoat and revealing his shirt, bandana, trousers and boots. He didn’t fail to notice that his weapons were missing.</p><p>“I couldn’t find his necklace,” Taelia said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder blade, tucked just under his pauldron. “The towel over by the looking glass is damp, too.”</p><p>Mathias chewed his upper lip, rising to his full height, letting her hand slip from him. He flicked a glance between the ensuite to the window overlooking the harbor. “Does he normally stop in to shower when he pulls into port?”</p><p>The girl shook her head. “Not since he’s been hopping the portal back to you, he hasn’t.”</p><p>The spymaster rubbed his forehead as he took in the state of the room once more. The drawers of her bureau hung open, various shirts and delicates dropped across the edges, along with other effects strewn about the floor and bed. His brow furrowed. What on Light’s Green Azeroth could Flynn have been searching for to leave his friend’s home in this state?</p><p>“Lass,” he broached carefully, “<em>please</em> be honest with me. He doesn’t still have anyone after him, does he?”</p><p>“Not that I’m aware of. Not since Harlan was taken out. And he’s been clean for years thanks to Cyrus.” She reached out once more, curling her hand around his bicep. “You think he’s in <em>real</em> trouble, don’t you?”</p><p>“If I were a religious man, I would pray not,” he muttered. The whole situation was turning into a worrisome mess, that little touch of fear edging its way through his gut. This is why he didn’t let people in, despite breaking his own rules. “Let’s go,” he said shakily. “Cyrus mentioned he was with Tandred last night. We’ll check the <em>Melody</em> and the <em>Middenwake</em> first, then start scouting the wards. With both ships berthed, he <em>has</em> to be around here somewhere.”</p><p>Taelia gave his arm a squeeze. “We’ll find him, Mathias. Have to have faith, and all that.”</p><p>“Faith,” he whispered to no one in particular as he leaned into her. He really hoped that his faith wasn’t sorely misplaced.</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>The ballroom of Proudmoore Keep buzzed with activity as pages and maids scurried about, making ready the chamber for the coming Winter Veil Ball. Crisp white linens fell across round dining tables at the edge of the room and the golden parquet floor sparkled under the touch of servants on their knees with scrub brushes in hand. Flynn popped a fried crab claw into his mouth, licking the garlic butter from his fingers as he followed a pace behind Tandred into the vast space, approaching the Lord Admiral at the center of the room, directing a burly man perched on a ladder with a paper lantern in hand.</p><p>“Fresh crab claws from the fanciest Shack in all of Kul Tiras,” Tandred announced as they approached. “Only the finest for the esteemed Lord Admiral,” he added with a wink. </p><p>Jaina turned with a soft giggle, “Good, you’re just in time. We were about to take…” Her words stilled as she looked past her brother to the girl just behind him. “A break. Oh, hells,” she breathed, looking Fairwind up and down.</p><p>“<em>Yeah</em>,” Tandred replied with a flick of a glance over his shoulder. “Seems we’ve got a bit of a predicament we were hoping you could help sort out,” he explained.</p><p>“Alright, what did you two get into?” the sorceress asked accusingly.</p><p>“<em>I</em> didn’t get into <em>anything</em>,” Tandred protested. “I’m not exactly sure what <em>he</em> got into, however,” he added as he hooked a thumb at his companion. Flynn gawked at Proudmoore around the two buttered fingers in his mouth.</p><p>Jaina crossed her arms as she threw looks between the two of them, blowing out a breath that fluttered her bangs. “I suppose it can’t be helped. We should take this to my study.” She turned to Arthas, who had come down the ladder to stand at her side. “You think you can handle things here for a bit?”</p><p>“I think I’m more than capable of hanging a few decorations,” he rumbled as Tandred tossed him a small parcel from the sack in his arms. Flynn didn’t fail in noticing the flicker of venom in his friend’s eyes, ever the protective brother. He knew that Tand wasn’t all that warm to his sister’s suitor, even all those years ago, <em>before</em> Arthas had become a mindless mass-murdering lunatic.</p><p>Jaina led the pair up the stairs to an office easily three times the size of Shaw’s back at SI:7 headquarters, the walls lined with bookshelves full to bursting with tomes and antiquities that would make even Taelia’s mouth water. Part of him itched to run his fingers over the spines; for all the world who thought he was a simple idiot, Flynn loved to pass his time with his nose in a book. Something told him, however, that these were not merely texts to be enjoyed for leisure reading.</p><p>After shutting the door behind them, the Lord Admiral approached Fairwind with a scrutinizing look, making him feel almost uncomfortable. She let out a sharp breath and placed her hands on her hips with a raise of her eyebrow. “What happened, Fairwind?” she asked pointedly.</p><p>“I went down to the pub with Tandred last night, and then I woke up like this,” Flynn recounted. “I swear by the Tidemother, I don’t remember anything else.”</p><p>Jaina tapped a finger to her pursed lips as her eyes roamed over Fairwind again, stopping only to chide her brother with a quick “<em>shh</em>, I’m trying to think here.” He startled as he felt a sharp prickle across his skin with a yelp, finding the Lord Admiral shaking out her hand as if burned.</p><p>“What in the <em>bloody fuck</em> was that?” he groused.</p><p>“Apologies, Captain. I was trying to see if I could get past the enchantment.” Jaina sighed and turned to her brother. “Whatever it is, it’s buried deep beneath several layers of tightly locked charms. Whoever did this wants it to <em>stick</em>. It’s going to take a lot to pick my way through them to break that curse.”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘layers’?” Flynn asked with a furrow in his brow.</p><p>“Think of it like a nesting lockbox. You have to pick one, then the one after that, and the one after that, et cetera, before you get to the prize at the end,” Tandred explained with a shrug of his shoulders. “I used to read through Jaina’s textbooks when I was younger when I got bored enough.” Fairwind nodded in understanding.</p><p>Jaina crossed her arms and let a pause linger thoughtfully. “Does Mathias know?”</p><p>Flynn shook his head. “He wouldn’t…” He let that train of thought trail off as he cast his eyes at a spot on the floor. <em>He wouldn’t understand. He’s not like me.</em> “We sent a message through that I’m on another contract.” He felt a gentle touch lifting his chin to meet the sorceress’ clear sea-glass eyes. </p><p>“Flynn,” she chided softly.</p><p>“I can’t let him see me like this, Jaina. I don’t...” <em>I don’t</em> want <em>him to see me like this</em>. “I <em>need</em> to be put back together first. And if that means missing the Ball—“</p><p>“I can’t guarantee I can sort this out by tomorrow night, but I <em>will</em> try.” </p><p>“If you can pull it off, you’ll owe me a dance,” Fairwind offered a weak smile.</p><p>“The royal party will be through the portal upon the morrow, including your mate. I think it best if you stuck to Tandred and kept out of sight for now,” she advised. Both men nodded in agreement. Her eyes widened. “Oh, Tides, has Mother seen the pair of you?”</p><p>“No, no, no,” Tandred shook his head with a shiver. “Fuck, no. Katherine would never leave me alone, she’d be so elated. Tidemother’s tits, she’d have fucking birth announcements handed out at the Ball.”</p><p>The Lord Admiral deadpanned. “Your mouth is about as abysmal as Fairwind’s.” </p><p>“Oi!” Flynn squawked indignantly.</p><p>“Alright, you two,” she gestured towards the door, “off you go and out of sight. Perhaps the <em>Melody</em> would be your safest option.”</p><p>“Aye, Lord Admiral,” Tandred saluted with a smirk, knowing his sister hated when he addressed her by her title. He pulled the parcel of crab claws and chips sectioned off for her and placed it on her grand estate desk, snatching up the rest of the food and tucking it under his arm as he made for the door.</p><p>“We’ll make it right, Flynn, but I <em>need</em> you to trust me.” Jaina tilted her head sympathetically towards the door. </p><p>Fairwind nodded with a soft, resigned sigh. “Yeah, I trust you.” His heart ached as the words lingered on his tongue like acid with what they had come to mean to him.</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p> </p><p>The bells chimed across the wards, marking the second hour past midday. Mathias felt a shiver rip through him. Although the skies were clear and the sun shone merrily across the pavement, the frigid air reminded him that they were still in the throes of Midwinter. Light, he hadn’t missed the season since returning to Stormwind; Winter along the western coast of the Kingdom was exponentially more forgiving than in Kul Tiras.</p><p>After briefing Flynn’s new captain of the <em>Middenwake</em>, as well as Tandred’s first mate, Taelia and Shaw had split up to cover ground across Boralus. The lass had taken the upper wards to scout Fairwind’s usual haunts, while Mathias agreed to roam the ‘Wick as well as Tradewinds Market to try and catch a glimpse of the captain. He sighed as came back towards the Snug Harbor Inn empty handed.</p><p>At this rate, it was like trying to find a needle in the middle of Westfall.</p><p>Mathias scrubbed a hand down his face, tugging at his goatee. He tried not to fret as he moved through the alley to the back of the tavern. He found a spot on the wall to lean against the brick, the building shielding him from the winds blowing in from the sea. The call of a woman down the way, tucked behind the void traders, tugged at his ears and he forced back a groan.</p><p>“Fortunes forecast, lucky charms! Get the dope on your horoscope!”</p><p>The spymaster chanced a small glance from his peripheral, finding her staring right at him with a lecherous smirk. He rolled eyes and kicked off the wall, deciding to wait Taelia out at the harbormaster’s, if only for his sanity. </p><p>“Care to have your fortune read, sweets?” the woman purred as he attempted to pass. “I could read your cards. Or your hands,” she added seductively as he paused.</p><p>“Not interested,” he muttered through clenched teeth. </p><p>She leaned over her little folding table, her bosom threatening to spill out of the linen blouse held by a midnight blue waist cinch. She reached out and walked her fingers up his guild leathers. “Then perhaps I could persuade you into that alley to loosen up those laces of yours.” </p><p>He caught her by the wrist just as she was about to tug at the tie of his corsetry. “You’re climbing up the wrong mast, I’m afraid.” He gently pushed her arm back towards her and let her go.</p><p>The fortune teller pouted playfully. “More’s the pity, I suppose.” She hummed thoughtfully, tucking a lock of her ashen gold mane behind an ear, the silky grin creeping back across her lips. “You know, at the expense of <em>my</em> inconvenience—”</p><p>“<em>Your</em> inconvenience?” Mathias interrupted with a snort.</p><p>“You could just hand over that pretty gold coin in your right pauldron pouch that has my name on it,” she flicked a glance between said pouch and his angry glare, “and <em>I</em>, in turn, could graciously give you a quick read of the cards. Maybe see if they reveal the location of your lost friend, hm?”</p><p>Shaw narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How do you know—”</p><p>“Ah, ah, ah,” the fortune teller chided “Coin first, love.”</p><p>“If I comply,” he retorted with a click of his jaw, “will you end your incessant blathering?”</p><p>“There’s a possibility,” she teased.</p><p>Mathias felt a soft growl rip from his throat. Light, help him. He smacked a coin down on the table and she snatched it up, giving it a quick bite before tucking it between her breasts. She made a show of shuffling her cards, pulling three from the center of the deck to lay before him.</p><p>
  <em>Death. The Lovers. The Magician, reversed. </em>
</p><p>“Isn’t that interesting,” she tutted, grinning through her bitten bottom lip. </p><p>“What?” Mathias asked irritably.</p><p>“One lover flees into the realm of shadows, while the other hides away.” She fluttered her fingers across the cards and lifted her eyes lazily up at the spymaster, curling her lips. “And he <em>really</em> doesn’t want to be found.”</p><p>Shaw’s patience was beginning to wane. “I’ve had about enough of your riddles, <em>witch</em>. What do you know?” he snarled.</p><p>The fortune teller feigned innocence. “Know? Why, my fair spymaster, I’m but a simple medium. I only interpret what the Tides show me. What makes you think I actually <em>know anything?</em>”</p><p>Mathias didn’t have even the slightest chance to respond as a hand slammed down over the cards on the folding table, causing it to jolt.</p><p>Taelia.</p><p>“How’s about you take your vile drivel back down the ‘Wick where it belongs, <em>Wendy</em>,” she spat. The spymaster raised an eyebrow. He could swear that if she could, Taelia would be breathing fire over the witch as she glared at her.</p><p>“If it isn’t Kul Tiras’ finest here to shoo me off as usual,” the fortune teller purred roguishly with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be off playing harbormaster’s pet, little cadet?”</p><p>“Better the harbormaster’s pet than a <em>harlot</em>, but what would I know?” Taelia sneered. “Now, jog on before Cyrus finds out you’re out here swindling good people of their hard-earned coin. <em>Again</em>.”</p><p>The fortune teller’s smile dropped into a venomous scowl. “Fine, have it <em>your</em> way.” </p><p>Taelia grabbed Mathias by the elbow, herding him away. He gladly turned from the witch, but not before hearing a last, searing remark spill from her lips like white hot acid crawling down his spine.</p><p>“By the by, Pathonia sends her regards.”</p><p>The spymaster froze, every bone in his body going rigid at the name, his breath puffing in short gasps. Slowly he turned to glance over his shoulder, but the woman was gone. </p><p>“Mathias?”</p><p>The spymaster inhaled sharply as he looked back to his companion.</p><p>“It’s nothing,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I take it you’re familiar with that one, then.”</p><p>Taelia let out a soft sigh and pursed her lips in annoyance. “Her name’s Wendigo. Whenever she turns up, trouble usually follows her. I’m actually a bit surprised she didn’t darken any doorways during the war, to be honest.”</p><p>Mathias worried his upper lip between his teeth. “You don’t suppose…”</p><p>“Flynn?” she concluded as her gaze sought where the fortune teller had disappeared, in case she had the notion of coming back. “Nah, he’s too smart to get tangled up in her shit.” She furrowed her brow as she glanced back up at the spymaster. “What did she say to you, anyway?”</p><p>Shaw shook his head. “Eh, it was mostly jibberish.” And yet.</p><p>“Come on, love,” Taelia had since loosened her grip on his elbow, tucking her arm in the crook instead. “Let’s grab a bit of nosh. I’m practically <em>starving</em>.”</p><p>He let her lead him off towards the tavern, casting one last glance at the spot the fortune teller, Wendigo, had occupied not ten minutes prior. Her words turned in his head. <em>And he</em> really <em>doesn’t want to be found.</em> He couldn’t help but think, as if an ominous dead weight had just dropped in his gut, like there was a little scratch of truth there.</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p> </p><p>“I told you, Tand,” Flynn groused as he paced the captain’s cabin on the <em>Melody</em>. “I fucking <em>told you</em>, didn’t I? I said he wasn’t going to buy it, and now he’s in bloody Boralus lookin’ for me.”</p><p>Tandred scrubbed both his hands down his face as he sprawled across the sofa. Upon boarding his vessel and retiring to his quarters with Flynn in tow, his first mate had poked her head in to inform him that Shaw had come around searching for Fairwind. Thankfully, she hadn’t mentioned anything about the girl who had shown up that morning adorned in the pirate’s effects and had been accompanying the flagship’s captain for the better part of the day. Tides bless his first mate and her level of discretion. He then instructed her to give ample warning should the spymaster return and to stall him for a mo’ should he insist on bearing an audience.</p><p>“I wish you’d stop that infernal pacing, Fairwind. You’re giving me the collywobbles.” Proudmoore sat up and rested his elbows on his spread knees. “It’ll be <em>fine</em>. We just have to come up with a plan.”</p><p>Flynn paused, chewing his lip thoughtfully. It was only a matter of time before Mathias would be barging down the door. Even if he wasn’t in his current state, questions would be razed and he’d be in for a world of deep shit. They’d had an argument or three before about his friendship with the youngest Proudmoore, with his mate convinced that Fairwind had a standing invitation into Tandred’s bed whenever the fancy should happen to strike.</p><p>The notion hit him like a thriving monsoon. Why didn’t he think of it sooner?</p><p>“Oh, that,” Flynn breathed, a soft smile playing on his lips. “<em>That</em> is bloody <em>brilliant!</em>” He crowed and leapt across to Tandred, grabbing his wrists to try and haul him off the sofa. “Up you get, and off with your shirt,” he ordered as he started to remove his vest and blouse, throwing them across the room haphazardly.</p><p>“Have you gone ‘round the bend?” Tandred squawked incredulously as Flynn removed his belt, only stopping to chuck his cutlasses into a corner out of sight. “The <em>fuck</em> do you think you’re doing?”</p><p>“I’m stripping, what does it look like?” He bent to remove his boots, tossing them to opposite ends of the cabin. “Come on, shirt and boots off quick as you please. He could come round at any moment.”</p><p>“But, <em>why</em> are you stripping?”</p><p>Flynn straightened as he started to loosen the laces of his trousers. “Because, Mathias’ pennants run only to the left side of the mast on a good day. If he pops in here to find a naked bonny in your bed and thinks he’s interrupted you freshly gotten your jollies off, he’ll turn tail faster than a schooner on a riptide. Bob’s your uncle, he’s out of our hair for the night.” </p><p>Tandred placed his hands on his hips with a gruff snort. “I think you’re playing with fire, Flynn.” He started to unbutton his shirt all the same. “I swear, if he finds out about this little ruse, he’s gonna sneak onto my ship to slit my throat in my sleep.”</p><p>“Tand, this ruse is going to save him a shitton of heartache. I know what I’m doing.”  Flynn shucked the breeches and laid them across the table. He turned back to his friend as he started working the clasps of the binding, freeing his breasts from their confines. “Now, come here,” he commanded, lifting up his hands to muss Proudmoore’s hair in a perfect dishevelment, pausing when he felt him press against his hip.</p><p>Flynn stopped and bit his lip. “Tandred, I just want to make it clear, this,” and he gestured between the two of them, “this is just a show to get Mathias to piss off for the night, at least until Jaina can figure out how to put me back to rights. The knickers stay <em>on</em>. I <em>can’t</em>,” he implored softly, “and you know I wouldn’t. Not after what happened with me and Tae.”</p><p>Proudmoore blew out a breath, his cheeks tinging with pink. “Yeah, I…” he stammered, “I know. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Flynn nodded. “Go on and unlace your trousers.”</p><p>No sooner had those words left his lips did they hear Rosaline announce through the closed door that Mathias Shaw had boarded looking to talk to the captain. Tandred bought about five minutes of stalling in response.</p><p>“Alright, I need you to help me,” Flynn instructed as he crawled into Tandred’s bed at the back of the cabin. “Hiding in plain sight and all that.” He settled on his side with his back to the door, his right side and all its tattoos hidden away and the blanket barely covering his bum, allowing his bare back to be shown. “Do me a solid and cover up my shoulder tattoo with my hair.” </p><p>Tandred did as he was told and placed the tousled locks over the few visible spots of ink and stood back to assess. “Not bad,” he muttered.</p><p>“Fuck off,” Flynn chided. “Now go sprawl across your fancy couch like a thoroughly fucked louse.” </p><p>Proudmoore had just settled into position when his first mate let Shaw into the cabin, the spymaster standing a small pace beyond the doorway as Rosaline closed the door behind him.</p><p>Flynn tried to keep his breathing even to mimic sleep, his heart thundering in his chest. It pained him that he couldn’t turn to see what was going on in the center of the room, that he couldn’t turn to gaze upon his lover. Call him a coward, any day, if it kept the hurt away from Mathias.</p><p>“<em>Captain</em>,” Shaw addressed Tandred curtly. </p><p>“What can I do you for, <em>Spymaster?</em>” Proudmoore tried to sound noncommital. Flynn choked back a curse at his friend for slinging a taunt at his mate. Bad form, Tand.</p><p>“I’m looking for Fairwind,” Mathias replied evenly. “It is of my understanding that you were the one who was with him last.” </p><p>“Oh, right, well.” Flynn heard a brief shuffle from the couch, Tandred changing positions. “I <em>did</em> go down to the pub with him last night, but I was hardly the last person who was with him.” </p><p>“How so?”</p><p>“Er, I took off before he did, early morning and the like. He was sat with some blonde lass named Wendy when I left.” </p><p>Fuck, piss, shit, Tide’s <em>dammit</em>. While technically the truth according to Tandred, telling Mathias that he was in the company of <em>someone</em> would most likely not earn favor with his mate, for either of them.</p><p>“Wendy,” Shaw repeated impassively.</p><p>“Aye, pretty girl, ‘bout your height,” Tandred continued unfiltered. “I mean, I’d never met her, but she and Fairwind seemed <em>familiar</em>.” </p><p>“Familiar,” Shaw replied icily.</p><p>“Yeah, but like I said, I turned in fairly early and I’ve not seen him all day.” </p><p>“I see.” Mathias paused and Flynn could feel him shifting his weight awkwardly. At least that worked out in his favor. He heard the sharp intake of breath and he knew that the spymaster’s flight instinct was kicking in. “Well, I apologize, Captain. It seems I have interrupted your private evening. I’ll let you carry on.” </p><p>Flynn could practically feel the curt bow Mathias threw in Proudmoore’s direction as he ducked out of the cabin, the door snicking shut. He fell on his back, exhaling the breath he had been holding and pressing his hands against his forehead.</p><p>“Hooo,” Tandred crowed. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”</p><p>Fairwind flicked a glance at his friend before fixing his eyes at the ceiling. “Yeah, worked like a charm,” he muttered absently, his gaze pulling to the tattoo gracing the inside of his left arm. He felt a hollow sickness start to bile in his gut and he prayed, <em>prayed</em>, that Jaina found the answers to his ailment with the speed of the fastest Tidesage in all Kul Tiras bringing a brigantine safely home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>By the Tides, this chapter was a monster. And I may have stolen a line from Robin Hood. My apologies, my kid watches it A LOT.</p><p>Comments are as always appreciated and welcomed, and they make the author dream of Garlic Butter Crab Claws from the Shack.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Maiden and the Monster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>She's a dwelling place for demons<br/>She's a cage for every unclean spirit every filthy bird<br/>And makes us drink the poisoned wine to fornicate with our kings<br/>Fallen now is Babylon the great</em>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Know? Why, my dear spymaster, what makes you think I </em>know<em> anything?</em></p><p>Mathias tried to turn on his side on the weathered couch in the flat Taelia shared with Cyrus. He growled a deep breath, frustrated that he couldn’t find a comfortable position and restless in his anxiety over his missing lover. His thoughts strayed this way and that, his mind a buzzing whirr, each one pulling in a chain succession without a moment’s respite. </p><p>One moment he was warm in Flynn’s arms, elated and relieved in a welcome embrace, the next he was scrambling to touch Fairwind’s elbow, pausing when he saw that his tattoo was gone and the pirate was turning away from him, leaving him so easily for the next conquest. Faces swam past him, potential ex-lovers that his precious captain could run back to at any moment. His thoughts betrayed him, whispering that he had nothing to offer the man who felt the pull of the tides like a siren’s call, the man who couldn’t sit still for even a moment in his presence, let alone when they were apart. </p><p><em>And he</em> really <em>doesn’t want to be found.</em> The witch’s words rang in his ears as he flopped to his other side, trying to not fall off the edge onto his arse. </p><p><em>Wendigo</em>, Taelia had called her. <em>Whenever she turns up, trouble usually follows her. </em></p><p>Mathias scrubbed a hand down his face, sitting up with a pop in his joints and a groan on his tongue. Sleep evading him, he lifted from the couch, grabbing the pillow that had been offered him earlier when he had returned from Proudmoore’s ship and padded silently on feathersoft steps to his companion’s quarters. He found Taelia curled away from the door and nearly pressed against the wall. The corner of his mouth lifted softly, knowing she had left ample space for him. Just in case. </p><p>The mattress dipped as he carefully slipped in next to her. He was not at all surprised when she rolled to curl next to him, scooting closer as he lifted his arm to rest loosely against her. He drifted off with the lingering thought of the witch’s fleeting remark of Pathonia in the back of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>Kearnen’s spindly feet clacked along the stone floor of the Prime Necropolis, moving towards the war table within the council chamber. She presented herself with a curt bow of her head, dropping back into her human form before the Barons as they studied the map of the realms, various bone pieces representing strategy at play.</p><p>“Report,” Mograine commanded.</p><p>“My sources tell me that the Maldraxxi traitors have been contained within Bastion, but the Forsworn are still a threat. The Lightbringer is close to defecting their cause.”</p><p>“Until word reaches him that the Maw-Walker is roaming free on Azeroth,” the Baron muttered.</p><p>Draka moved a piece on the board. “What of the situation in Ardenweald?” she asked evenly.</p><p>“More stable than most,” Kearnen replied. “The wakening of the Dragon Aspect has given them reprieve, but it’s only a matter of time before there’s a surge of Drust activity again. I’ve been assured that the Herne can spare a few Sylvar to assist, for now.” </p><p>“Send word for the reinforcements,” the Baroness commanded, moving another two pieces. She closed her eyes and inhaled a sharp breath. “Revendreth?”</p><p>Kearnen flicked her eyes towards the little shadow crouched near Draka’s flank. “Denathrius has been bested by an incursion of champions. The Venthyr covenant is now under the leadership of Prince Renethal, but there are still those loyal to the Sire that are seeking to hold power under the Banshee’s hand. The Court of Harvesters is divided.” She held out a parchment to Baron Mograine.</p><p>“This doesn’t make sense,” he said with a furrow of his brow. “With Denathrius unseated, his followers should have pulled back, not grown in strength. Who remains of his court?”</p><p>“The Caretaker, The Fearstalker, The Tithelord,” the Blade listed, pausing to let her eyes fall on the little shadow once more, “and the Stonewright.” She watched his glowing, necrotic eyes widen as a tremble of fear ripped through him. Kearnen, too, had recognized the wrathful venthyr as soon as she laid eyes on her. </p><p>“Little one?” Draka asked, her gaze following the Aranakk’s. “Do you know of this Stonewright?”</p><p>Kearnen watched him try to duck their gaze upon him. “She’s ambitious,” he began carefully, “and cruel.” The little shadow lifted his head and stared right into Kearnen’s eyes. “Ever so much more than when we knew her,” he whispered. “She doesn’t forget.”</p><p>The Blade felt a pang at his words, of a life lived so long ago. She wasn't completely blind to her former master's machinations. She knew that the little shadow didn’t see what had become of the organization that hunted him down. He didn’t know what it was like when it was no longer under her control, when another had risen to take her place. How it had changed for the better, out from under that kind of strict and scheming hand. While the new master was still a product of her teachings, he had changed their cause into something far nobler. The rogue that Amber Kearnen had been in life was proud to lay down her life at his feet.</p><p>And yet, there was only one on this side of the veil that could cut their little shadow so deep. </p><p>“She tortured you, didn’t she?” she asked plainly. He only turned his head away.</p><p>Kearnen stared at the board, pushing pieces around the area marked Revendreth. If what the little shadow said was true, it was only a matter of time before the Venthyr would fall to her vile manipulations and they would be back at square one. The Stonewright would plant the seeds and rise her rebellion from the shadows, as she did in life, only to hand it over to the Jailor and the Banshee in exchange for more power. It would be no different than if Denathrius hadn’t been subdued at all. She looked out into the domicile, her gaze falling on the familiar guild leathers of the Illidari she had met as the living champions began pouring into their halls.</p><p>“Sir? Is it my understanding that the champions have a means to travel between the Shadowlands and Azeroth?”</p><p>Draka shrugged. “I am not certain. Alexandros?” she asked her compatriot.</p><p>The Baron nodded. “They have a portal network setup in Oribos. What is it that you suggest, Blade?”</p><p>“If the Stonewright is as much of a threat as I fear,” Kearnen broached, “then I may know of someone who would be a valuable ally to us. It is a longshot, however.” She flicked a glance back at the little shadow. He shook his head pleadingly.</p><p>“Very well,” Draka said with a curt nod. “Send a summons with one of the living.”</p><p>Kearnen pulled a piece of parchment from the table and hurriedly scribbled a ciphered message across the page, double-checking for errors. It had been so long since she had to use the field cipher he had taught her, pulling the passages of <em>Treatise</em> through the haze of her living memory as if it were yesterday. She scrolled the missive and sealed it on the hilt of her dagger, looking to the shadow once more.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Edwin,” she whispered genuinely. “It’s the only way.” She slipped back into her Aranakk form and skittered off in search of the demon hunter operative in service to the Crown.</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>“I swear, when we get back to Stormwind, I’m hustling that toy peddler into selling me the biggest stuffed bear he has on his cart for you,” Taelia teased as he entered her tiny kitchen the next morning. She didn’t lift her gaze from the Boralus gossip rag she was bent over.</p><p>“Sorry about that,” Mathias mumbled sleepily, scratching a hand through his hair. </p><p>“Actually,” she glanced up with a raise of an eyebrow, “I’m surprised you lasted out on the couch as long as you did. It doesn't make for the most comfortable of rests. There’s coffee and pastries,” she inlined her head at the tin pot on the table, a brown paper package nearby. “Cups are above the sink.”</p><p>The spymaster set about fixing a cup and sitting across from her, taking a slug of the acrid brew. While he had missed Kul Tiran coffee, a much heartier cup than what Stormwind had to offer for sure, he had too much on his mind to enjoy it.</p><p>They ate in silence, Mathias’ thoughts drifting to his lover as it was wont to do. Something tugged at his chest with the fleeting hope that he would burst through the door and tackle him with one of his absurd embraces that he saved for whenever they had been apart for too long. It stung every moment that the door stood untouched.</p><p>“He asked me about him, you know,” Taelia broached. “Your— <em>Waltion</em>, I mean.”</p><p>Mathias lifted his eyes to her curiously. “Did he? What did you tell him?” he asked softly.</p><p>“That Flynn’s an idiot,” she smiled. “That he doesn’t have a line between his head and his mouth.” She reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze, “And that he fucking <em>loves</em> you more than anything in this whole blighted world.”</p><p>“Then why hasn’t he come home?” Mathias muttered, his eyes dropping back to her hand over his.</p><p>Taelia blew out an awkward breath. “I figured we could set out soon,” she diverted, pulling back her hand to take a swig of her coffee. “You know, since we came up with a lot of not much yesterday. We could check out Freehold and Anyport, see if he’s gone to ground there. ‘Sides, Gale could use the stretch.”</p><p>Shaw furrowed his brow as he set down his cup and leaned against the table. “You think he might have fled to Freehold?”</p><p>“It wouldn’t surprise me, what with Harlan dead and the majority of the Irontide in chains,” Taelia replied around her own cup. “Anyport is a bit far-fetched, I admit, but it wouldn’t hurt to look.” She lifted from her seat, depositing her dishes into the sink. “We’ll find him, love,” she added as she walked past, stopping to push her fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. “I’m going to get dressed, then we can go.”</p><p>Shaw gave a resigned shrug and finished his cup as she ducked back into her chambers. His eyes fell on his sea-bag and with a sigh, set about getting ready for the day.</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>“Is it working?” Flynn asked irritably, his eyes screwed up tight and his voice still the tinkling mezzosoprano of his predicament. “‘Cuz I’ll tell you, I don’t feel a lick of difference.”</p><p>“Don’t say <em>lick</em>, Fairwind,” Jaina muttered chidingly. She pulled her hand back with another shock like being struck by lightning sparks. Flynn shot her a scathing look, rubbing at a spot on his shoulder.</p><p>“Is it pertinent to my condition to melt my skin off?” he groused.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Flynn,” she replied with a defeated sigh. “I told you there were several layers I need to sort through.” She consulted one of a mountain of books piled across her estate desk and flicked her wrist to command a charmed quill to mark a strike across a scrap of parchment nearby.</p><p>Jaina had sent a courier to Tandred’s ship upon daybreak to summon the pair back to the Keep. While her brother took her place in setting about final preparations for the evening’s festivities, she worked tirelessly at trying to break through the charms that were concealing the curse set upon the captain. By the third tome of research, she was no closer to cracking the locks to lift the spells.</p><p>“Ma’am?” The Lord Admiral drew her attention to the entrance of her study, her guard captain poking his head in. “Lucille Waycrest, as you summoned,” he announced.</p><p>“Send her in, Roland,” she commanded. “Thank you.” The guard stood aside, allowing her guest to stride in. </p><p>“Lord Admiral,” Lady Waycrest greeted with a nod. Her eyes flicked to Flynn, widening. “Wow,” she breathed, “you weren’t kidding.” She stepped closer to take a closer look. The captain tried to flinch away from her scrutinizing.</p><p>“Lucy, this is… er, <em>Fiona</em>,” Jaina introduced, Flynn shooting her another glare as she turned back to the young witch. “I was hoping to gain some outside insight on the spells locked on him— I mean, <em>her</em>.”</p><p>“They do feel Drust in origin.” Lucille gave Flynn a twice over. “And they’re sealed fairly tight. May I?” she asked as she held out a hand.</p><p>Fairwind clicked his jaw and shifted his gaze between the two a moment before giving a nod at the encouragement of Jaina. The young witch graced his face with the gentlest of touches, closing her eyes, her brow twitching. Instead of the sharp crackles he had sensed from Jaina, Lucy’s touch was warm and held only the slightest of gentle nudges.</p><p>“It’s not like any curse I’ve come across, that’s for sure,” Lady Waycrest assessed with a tilt of her head, "but I’m pretty certain it’s come from one of the covens. If you give me a couple of hours, I may be able to loosen some of the strings.”</p><p>“I’ll leave you to it—“</p><p>“<em>Jaina</em>,” Flynn protested.</p><p>The Lord Admiral sighed. “I still need to check on Arthas and Tandred to make sure they haven’t killed each other yet,” she explained apologetically. “I leave you capable hands, and I <em>will</em> check in soon. I promise.”</p><p>Flynn crossed his arms and sunk further into the chair petulantly. It was going to be a <em>very</em> long day.</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>It was nearly mid-afternoon when Galeheart touched down on the landing leading to the Dead Man’s Tale. Taelia handed her reins over to the flight master with a pass of a coin, which he happily accepted. She liked Rodrigo, even though he tended to care more for riding parrots than gryphons. He was a sweet bloke who always kept a basket of apples on hand for Gale when she came into town.</p><p>Anyport had come up dry, with Fairwind not docking there for months. Mathias had been skeptical at first, with so many Horde sympathizers still haunting the hovel. Taelia vouched for the innkeeper however, an old friend of Flynn’s, and took her at her word. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. The pair decided to move on to Freehold fairly quickly.</p><p>Taelia led the way into the inn, sidling up to the bar to chat with Venrik. Mathias was glad for the civvies he had packed, drawing much less attention to himself than if he had sported his guild leathers. He scanned the room as his companion made small talk with the bartender, spotting a wisp of ashen blonde and a flutter of skirts flittering out of the opposite door. He narrowed his eyes and backed out of the tavern to try and catch the wench on the other side.</p><p>Shaw slipped into stealth quickly, keeping to the shadows as he followed the maid as she dipped through the crowd of merchant marines and freebooters. He managed to sidestep several dockworkers on a silent foot, his stride catching up quick enough to grab the woman by the elbow to swiftly pull her into a corner in the shadows, his dagger at her throat. </p><p>“Oh, <em>this</em> is a bit of a surprising turnabout, innit?” the witch quipped with a seductive grin playing across her red lips. “Yesterday, I couldn’t coax you into a blind alley for a even a bit of a tumble, and today you’re man-handling me across all of Freehold." Her grin turned lecherous. "Not that I’m complaining, mind, pretty thing like yourself. Did your sails happen to turn in the course of a night?”</p><p>“Wendigo, is it?” Shaw spat. </p><p>“Did your little friend tell you that?” she purred with amusement. “Silly little cadet.”</p><p>“If you value your existence, you’ll tell me what you know,” he said dangerously.</p><p>“And here I thought I made myself clear as day, Spymaster,” she feigned innocence. “Again, what makes you think I actually <em>know</em> anything?”</p><p>Shaw’s patience was starting to wane. “Where is the captain,” he growled, “and what do you know of Pathonia?”</p><p>“Pathonia?” she blinked. “Unfortunate name. Never heard of her.”</p><p>“You said, ‘Pathonia sends her regards.’ I was <em>not</em> mistaken.”</p><p>“Are you certain?” Wendy tilted her head. “The breeze that whispers from the south bay likes to tell lies,” she retorted playfully.</p><p>Shaw inhaled a sharp breath and pressed the dagger against the flesh of her neck just below her jaw. If he gripped the blade just a little tighter, he’d break her pale skin. “Fine, play your games. I’ll ask one more time: where is Captain Fairwind?”</p><p>“Oh pet,” she chastised, “you really should listen to what the cards were trying to tell you. If he doesn’t want to be found, perhaps you should stop <em>looking</em> for him, hm?”</p><p>Shaw leaned in close to her ear. “You’re mistaking me for a man who’d bear issue in dispatching a woman,” he whispered. “Now, tell me where I can find Captain Fairwind.”</p><p>“Do you believe in faerie tales, Spymaster?” she asked with a curl of her lips. “There’s one that I believe you’d find <em>particularly</em> interesting. It’s called the Maiden and the Monster.” </p><p>“Tell me you have a point to make. One that will answer my question.”</p><p>“I do,” she replied proudly and quickly. “You see, there’s this prince who scorns a beautiful enchantress. Stunning, she is, actually. And well, she just can’t abide that, so she turns him into a <em>beastly</em> thing. Downright wretched.”</p><p>Mathias seethed as she blathered. “Never was one for fanciful tales,” he gritted through his teeth. “The <em>captain,</em>” he pressed.</p><p>The witch flicked her glance away. “Your friend is done with her line of questioning, and isn’t that a delicious blow? She’s come up with nothing, yet again.” She let out a mirthful laugh. “You really should get going. You wouldn’t want to disappoint <em>His Majesty</em> by missing the Ball, now do you?” </p><p>“Mathias?” he heard Taelia call for him.</p><p>“<em>Many a heart is aching</em>,” Wendigo sang softly in his ear, “<em>After the ball.</em>”</p><p>“Mathias, where are you?” Taelia called again. The spymaster tore his attention away from his prey towards the sound of his companion’s voice. “There you are,” she breathed as she rounded the corner. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>Shaw turned back to find the witch gone, slipped from his grasp. He let a soft growl rip from his throat. “Nothing,” he muttered, sheathing his dagger and scrubbing a hand down his face. “Any luck?”</p><p>The cadet shook her head. “Not a trace. We should head back. It’s getting late.” Mathias kicked off the wall to join her at her side. “And just so you know, I’m taking the loo first.”</p><p>The spymaster softened, the fight finally leaving him. “And why is that?”</p><p>“Because you tend to use up all the hot water making yourself pretty.”</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>The bell chimed the fifth hour of the afternoon. Flynn leaned against Jaina’s desk with his head in his hands, his skin tingling from the picks and prods that had been set upon him for the majority of the day. He began to wonder if the royal entourage had arrived at the Keep, a twinge of hurt rippling through him at the thought of whether his lover would be at the Ball without him or still searching the whole of Kul Tiras for any sign of his whereabouts. He certainly felt guilty of the misdirection he and Tandred had set Mathias on the night before, but it had been a necessary evil he had tried to convince himself of. </p><p>Mathias was going to <em>kill</em> him.</p><p>“How’s it going in here?” The Lord Admiral asked as she entered the study to check up on him and Lady Waycrest. “Any luck?”</p><p>Lucille blew out an exhausted sigh. “Not really,” she groaned. “Had to take a break. Was starting to get a migraine.” She rubbed at her temples as she lounged in the wingback chair that Flynn had occupied earlier. “Every time I get a slip under one of the spells, it shuts me out. I can’t seem to get a clear enough foothold to try to break through them.”</p><p>Jaina glanced between the two empathetically. “Lucy, why don’t you take a rest for a few hours. We can get back to it in a while.” She conjured a carafe of mana-water, pouring a glass and handing it to her. “I’m going to steal <em>Fiona</em> here and we’ll be back later.” She caught Flynn’s eye and inclined her head towards the door, indicating for him to follow her.</p><p>He followed the sorceress a pace behind as they discreetly crossed the corridor, the Lord Admiral ushering him into her private quarters. She closed the door behind her and gestured towards the stool before the vanity, indicating that he sit. He belatedly realized that Jaina was in her fancy dress for the ball. She donned a simple frock, a deep blue velvet and sleeveless. Tiny gold jewels adorned the hem, giving her the illusion of walking on stars.</p><p>She crossed her arms and he squirmed under her scrutiny before she turned towards her open wardrobe, flicking through several garments before pulling a gown out to inspect it. The underfabric was a soft, blush silk, overlaid by sheer sparkling mageweave in a kiss of stormy blue. </p><p>“What are you doing?” Flynn asked finally, not concealing his exasperation even a bit.</p><p>“Lucille needs to replenish her mana stores, and it would be hardly productive for you to sit and stare at her while she does so,” Jaina explained. She hung the dress on a hook at the corner of her vanity. “Tandred told me of your efforts to throw Shaw of your scent, which while it wasn’t a <em>terrible</em> idea to hide you in plain sight, the execution could use some work.”</p><p>“I panicked,” Flynn grumbled. “You don’t have to remind me, Jaina. I already feel fucking awful about it.”</p><p>“I can’t lecture you on the stupidity of your plan, Fairwind,” the mage chided as she passed a hand over the sleeves. Flynn could swear he saw twinkling sparks transfer from her fingers towards the dress. “But, I can at least help you improve on it, at least for this evening.”</p><p>“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Flynn asked with a furrow in his brow. </p><p>“It means we are going to hide you again, this time in a ball gown with a drink in your hand.”</p><p>Flynn’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, absolutely not,” he squawked incredulously. “Have you gone fucking <em>mad?</em>”</p><p>“<em>No one</em> will recognize you.”</p><p>“<em>You</em> recognized me.” </p><p>Jaina shot him a pointed look. “<em>One</em>, Due to my affinity to magic, I recognized the strong aura of dark magic practically drowning you. <em>Two</em>, Tandred has only ever brought you and Taelia to the Keep. It wasn’t difficult for <em>me</em> to figure it out, but I don't think anyone else would. Not if they knew what to look for.” She tilted her head. “Tell me, did my brother recognize you straight away?”</p><p>Flynn scowled. “Not <em>right</em> away,” he admitted under his breath. “I still don't believe it will work. My arms are still filled with ink. <em>My</em> ink.” He made a show of presenting his tattoos out for proof.</p><p>“And I’ve spelled the dress to conceal them,” the mage pointed out. “As long as you stay close to Tandred and away from my mother, <em>and</em> if keep your mouth closed, nothing should be amiss.”</p><p>Fairwind scrunched up his nose indignantly. “The fuck is <em>that</em> supposed to mean?”</p><p>Jaina bent to look him in the eye. “Your voice doesn’t give you away, but the words you wield with it does.” She reached out to turn him towards the mirror and table. “Now, if you would <em>please</em> give me the benefit of the doubt that I happen to know what I'm doing, I’ll have you ready in moments.”</p><p>He looked at his reflection in the mirror, the worry and guilt settling in his gut again. “I hope you’re right about this.”</p><p>A flicker of a smile played across her lips as she grabbed her hairbrush from the vanity. “You’d be surprised to find that I usually am,” she quipped as she started to brush out the long auburn locks. </p><p>“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mumbled as he chewed his bottom lip in the mirror.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <em>After the ball is over,<br/>After the break of morn—<br/>After the dancers' leaving;<br/>After the stars are gone;<br/>Many a heart is aching,<br/>If you could read them all;<br/>Many the hopes that have vanished,<br/>After the ball.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Apologies for the wait. There were parts of this chapter that fought against me and I had to last minute shuffle things around. I am pleased, however, because it's going to allow me to flesh out the next two. &lt;3</p><p>Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, and think that Flynn is REALLY pretty in his borrowed dress. :P</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Be Our Guest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>The city dressed in jewels and gold<br/>Fine linen, myrrh and pearls<br/>Her plagues will come all at once<br/>As her mourners watch her burn<br/>Destroyed in an hour</em>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I always have particular scenes that I look forward to getting to. There's one here, and one in the next chapter. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Suit’s laid out,” Taelia announced when Mathias exited her ensuite with a towel around his waist. “You really should use that to soak up that mop of yours first.”</p><p>The spymaster furrowed his brow, tightening his hold on the plush cloth covering his lower half. “Er… Lass? Could you… that is to say—“ he stammered.</p><p>“Come off it,” she scolded, glancing in the mirror at him as she picked up a small pot of rose salve. “You’ve nothing I haven’t seen before and we don’t have the time for your sudden modesty.” She dipped a finger into the jar and dabbed the substance against her lips, pausing to look at him through the glass once more. “Go on, get a wiggle on. S’not like I’m going to stand here ogling,” she added pointedly.</p><p>Shaw pursed his lips and tugged the towel away to rub it against his head when she pulled her attention away to finish her primping. He quickly dressed while she added a loosely cropped jumper over the bodice of her sage green gown and straightened the cowl. By the time she had slipped on a dainty pair of matching slippers, he had most of the buttons of his royal dress uniform done up.</p><p>“Would you look at that. You shine up like a new copper,” Taelia remarked fondly. She reached over to his shave kit, digging around until she found his grooming cream. She extracted a small dollop and tossed the jar back onto her bed. With the pomade spread between her palms, she lifted her hands, earning a half-hearted glare.</p><p>“I’m quite capable of doing that myself, Lass. Have done since before you were thought of, in fact.”</p><p>“Yeah, but your hands are shaking,” she replied smartly. “Now shut your face.”  She pulled some of the cream through his moustache and goatee, tousling the rest through his hair to tame it smartly before setting his face to rights. “There’s my favorite spymaster,” she teased with a pat of his cheek, watching his brow furrow devastatingly. “What is it, love?”</p><p>“It just seems wrong,” he muttered. “Going to this frivolous ball when Flynn’s—”</p><p>“Stop it,” Taelia admonished. “He’s going to turn up, he has to sooner or later. I’m willing to bet as soon as the ice clinks in the glasses, he’ll come out from wherever he’s hiding.”</p><p>“What if he doesn’t want to be found?” the spymaster asked unsteadily. </p><p>“Tell you what,” she said as she broke away to stuff her lip salve and a few small potions into her wrist pouch, “if Flynn Fairwind doesn’t magically appear at the bar with a glass in hand, I'll owe you one.”</p><p>“And if he does,” Mathias crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow skeptically. </p><p>“Oh, I’m sure I can come up with a suitable punishment,” she teased as she settled her cloak around her shoulders and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. </p><p>“You’re a menace.”</p><p>“But, you love me,” Taelia grinned sweetly and pulled him towards the door. “Come on. We shouldn’t keep Anduin waiting.”</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>The trek to the keep was surprisingly without incident, the breeze wafting in from the bay thankfully warm. The sun dipped behind the horizon and Boralus started to glow with street lamps and faerie lights as Mathias and Taelia made their way to Proudmoore Keep. The spymaster kept a keen eye all the same, scanning for even the slightest alert to danger out in the open escorting the King’s consort, however much the girl protested at the title.</p><p>They found Anduin lingering by the entrance of the Keep waiting for them, the worried crease in his brow exchanging itself for a look of awe. He took in the sight of Taelia in her gown with a soft exhale and a pink tinge to his cheeks. She dropped her hand from Shaw’s arm as they approached, the spymaster hanging back a pace.</p><p>“I dare say, <em>Lady Fordragon</em>,” Anduin mused as she took his offered hand, “this makes sending you through the portal early worth the wait.” He glanced past her to the man lingering. “Any luck finding Flynn?”</p><p>Mathia shook his head with a sigh. “No, he’s made himself frighteningly scarce.”</p><p>“I see,” Anduin muttered thoughtfully. “Val has taken up security detail. I’d like to tell you to relax and enjoy yourself, but I think that would be a moot point.” The spymaster shot him a pointed look. “At the very least, you’ll be able to concentrate on catching a glimpse of the captain without having to be concerned with my safety.”</p><p>“I appreciate that, Lad,” Mathias muttered with a slight nod.</p><p>Anduin offered his arm, letting Taelia link hers into the crook of his elbow and led them into the ballroom with a soothing “just breathe” as the crowd of nobility and leaders applauded his arrival. She felt another hand graze the small of her back, Mathias, throwing a glance over her shoulder. He picked out a shadowed spot on the wall behind them, placing one hand behind his back in an effortlessly practiced formal posture to scan the room. </p><p>She tried to keep her poise as the young king greeted the gentry from their place at the head of the court while she did her own sweep of the crowd to try and find her friend. She let out the softest of exhales, her eyes falling on the northeast entrance where Tandred appeared with a maiden on his arm. She couldn't have been much taller than herself, long sun-washed auburn locks falling across her shoulders and tucked behind an ear with a couple of champagne colored clips. Her gown sparkled under the magicked lamplights, a shimmering wash of storm-grey and blush silk that clung to her delicate frame and flowed when she took a step.</p><p>The girl at Proudmoore’s side jittered like a frightened animal in a corner. She watched her glance past her, freezing with wide eyes. Taelia looked over her shoulder once more to Mathias, who was not paying the girl any mind. When she turned back to Tandred and his date with Katherine approaching them, she found the girl shaking her head frantically and slipping off back through the door.</p><p>“Oh <em>shit</em>,” she breathed.</p><p>“Tae?” Anduin murmured, giving her a slight startle. “You’re fidgeting, love.”</p><p>“Am I?” she asked hollowly, staring at the door on the opposite end of the ballroom. She inhaled sharply and looked up at him, pulling her hand from his arm. “I’m just going to excuse myself to the ladies’ parlour,” she said quickly. “I kind of need to use the loo.”</p><p>“Is everything alright?” the King asked, his voice thick with concern.</p><p>Taelia nodded absently. “I think I know what happened to Flynn,” she whispered.</p><p> </p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>Flynn blew into the ladies’ parlour and stopped before a bank of vanities lined with mirrors, bracing himself against the counter while his breath came in short gasps. He had panicked; Jaina had tried to reassure him that they could keep him protected, hidden. Yet, when he had spotted Mathias <em>so close</em> and just across the way, scanning the room <em>looking for him</em>, he just couldn’t. He had to flee, run away. He couldn't let his mate see him like this, and it ripped his heart.</p><p>“Flynn Fairwind, it is <em>wholly</em> unfair that you’ve turned out prettier than me.”</p><p>His head snapped to the door of the parlour, Taelia staring right at him, her brow creased sympathetically. He scrunched up his face and bowed his head away as he felt her approach. Jaina had been proven wrong.</p><p>“How’d you recognize me?” he asked softly, not bringing himself to look at her.</p><p>Taelia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and tilted her head in order to try lifting his gaze. “Flynn, you’re my <em>best friend</em>. I’d know you anywhere,” she replied affectionately, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “You could turn into a bloody kraken and I’d <em>still</em> recognize you.” </p><p>“Mathias?” Flynn choked out with a sidelong glance.</p><p>Taelia shook her head. “Portrait of composure on the outside, absolutely gutted on the in.” She blew out a breath and moved her hand to his cheek. “Why are you hiding from us, love? From <em>him?</em>”</p><p>Fairwind finally lifted his gaze to her, tears rimming his lashlines and threatening to ruin the time Jaina had spent making him pretty. “I thought it would be quite obvious, Tae. I can’t talk to him like <em>this</em>.” </p><p>“Like what, Flynn?”</p><p>“Oh, come on,” Flynn straightened and waved a hand frantically. “You know as well as I do that Mathias’ tastes do <em>not</em> run towards fair maidens. I mean, what the fuck is he supposed to even <em>do</em> with me?”</p><p>"You're an idiot."</p><p>"It's a fact, Tae. He's not like me. He's going to take one good, hard look and that's it. We're done for."</p><p>Taelia clicked her jaw and promptly placed her hands on her hips. “Flynn Fairwind,” she said accusingly, “if you think that the only thing Mathias cares about is what’s dangling between your legs, then you don’t know him very well. And quite frankly, you don’t deserve him.” She softened with a sigh. “Mathias <em>loves</em> you—”</p><p>“Yeah, well he ain’t ever said it,” he spat. A pause lingered, Taelia looking like she had been slapped. </p><p>“Flynn, he’s been all over this bloody island looking for you,” she broached. “He’s <em>beside</em> himself with worry, love.” She reached up and coaxed him into looking at her. “He thinks you’re leaving him,” she added softly.</p><p>“I wouldn’t, Tae. I just... need to get this sorted. Go back to how I’m supposed to be with the right bits in the right places.” He sighed, a crease dipping his brow in anguish. “What if I’m stuck like this?”</p><p>“Then the two of you’ll settle down, get hitched, and you’ll pop out a couple of sprogs with his red hair and your crooked nose,” she replied in a matter of fact way that bordered on teasing.</p><p>“Please, don’t even <em>suggest</em> that,” Flynn groused as the girl let out a soft giggle. “I can’t do it, Tae.” </p><p>“Yes, you <em>can</em>,” she encouraged. “I promise you, he won’t care, as long as it’s <em>you</em>.” She reached into her wrist pouch and pulled out one of the vials she had stashed earlier, pressing it into his palm. “Go out there and talk to him. I think you’ll be surprised.”</p><p>Fairwind stared at the potion that was handed to him, looking up at her in confusion. “What’s this?” </p><p>“Biological compound potion,” she explained. Flynn just blinked at her. “It’s been three weeks, love. You don’t want us to sort this out while you’ve a spawn growing in your gut, do you?”</p><p>The captain groaned. “That’s just… that’s appalling, Tae. And I’m telling you, I don’t think anything’s going to happen. He’s not—”</p><p>“He will,” Taelia insisted, “because it’s <em>you</em>.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Now, clean yourself up and I’ll see you out there,” she whispered as she turned and ducked out of the parlour. </p><p>“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, staring at the vial again.</p><p>@}—&gt;—</p><p>Taelia came back to the party in full swing. Couples swept around the dance floor to music played by a group of handsomely hired bards while various keep maids and butlers moved between the throngs of minglers with trays of fancy food and drink. Her eyes caught on Anduin, who threw her a questioning eyebrow. She offered a one shouldered shrug forlornly before her eyes drew to Mathias behind him. She gestured towards him and Anduin glanced back at his spymaster before giving her a nod in agreement. She kept to the wall along the perimeter of the room until she settled shoulder to shoulder with Shaw, giving him the slightest of nudges.</p><p>“You should be up there with Anduin,” he muttered as he continued to watch the room. </p><p>“Yeah, and I wanted to check on <em>you</em>,” she replied. “Any sign?”</p><p>“Nothing,” he sighed. </p><p>She leaned her head against his shoulder as they stood quiet, just watching the crowd in their reverie.</p><p>“Maybe the witch was right,” Mathias said after a moment.</p><p>“Wait, what?” she asked incredulously, looking up to see the thinly veiled pain cross his face before it was walled up behind his usually passive expression. “Mathias, what did she <em>say</em> to you?”</p><p>He swallowed hard. “That I.. that I should stop looking for him,” he answered defeatedly.</p><p>"Oh, love, don't say that."</p><p>Mathias shrugged against her shoulder and went back to his watch of the room.</p><p>She chewed on Shaw’s words and it clicked: Mathias was looking for <em>Flynn</em>, the man with strong, broad shoulders and a day’s worth of scruff along his jaw. He was looking for <em>Flynn</em>, the man with a lilting tenor to his jovial voice and a flirtatious smile that could melt the knickers off man and woman alike. He wasn’t looking for an auburn tressed lass wearing a twinkling sheer gown barely a few inches taller than herself.</p><p>Taelia glanced back out, her eyes catching on Flynn as he settled himself at the bar. His hand raised at the barkeep and a glass appeared next to him filled with familiar amber liquid. She felt the pull of a smirk at the corner of her mouth.</p><p>By the Tides, she was going to win a bet.</p><p>“Say, Mathias?” she began, her smile broadening. “Want to do me a solid and fetch a glass of wine from the bar? I’m suddenly <em>very</em> thirsty.” She tried to bat her eyes at him pleadingly. "Practically parched."</p><p>Shaw quirked an eyebrow as he glanced down at her. “Lass,” he warned. “What are you up to?”</p><p>“I’m not up to anything,” she insisted, feigning innocence. “It's just that I really should get back to Anduin and I thought you could use a little bit of a break from holding up the wall.” She tilted her chin indignantly under his scrutiny, his eyes narrowing at her.</p><p>“You’re sending me off to see a man about a coin purse, aren’t you?”</p><p>“I would <em>never</em>.”</p><p>He set his mouth in a line. “If you’ve driven me to distraction—”</p><p>“I swear I’m not,” she said quickly, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “<em>Please</em>, trust me?”</p><p>She held his gaze as he rolled his tongue and he conceded, slipping away to disappear into the crowd. A wash of delight poured over her for a moment until a flash of familiar ashen blonde caught her off-guard. Her face fell as the woman danced amongst the crowd. She paused to wink at her before ducking into the same side hallway she, herself, had used earlier.</p><p>
  <em>Wendigo.</em>
</p><p>With haste, she moved back to Anduin’s side, grabbing his hand as he conversed with the old wolf. </p><p>“I am <em>so</em> sorry, King Greymane,” she rushed, trying to think on her toes, “but I really must steal Anduin away for a moment. You don’t mind terribly, do you?” she added with as much saccharine as she could muster.</p><p>Greymane smiled with a hint of surprise and approval. “Not at all, my dear,” he replied, turning to his wife to invite her to the dance floor with the rest of the congregation. Taelia tugged her companion away, keeping them around the edge of the dancers and ducked into the hallway with him on her heels.</p><p>“Tae?” Anduin asked, trying to keep up. “Where are we going?” </p><p>“We’ve got a whole world of trouble,” she tried to explain as she bumped into a figure in the hall.</p><p>“Whoa, Tae. Where’s the fire?” Tandred held her shoulders as they both tried to regain their footing.</p><p>Taelia looked between the two, panicked. She swallowed and took a breath. “I saw someone come this way who may have had a hand in what’s happened to Flynn.”</p><p>“You saw Flynn,” Tandred said. It wasn’t a question.</p><p>Taelia nodded. “And yesterday, there was this witch in the market who was taunting Mathias. Her name’s Wendigo—”</p><p>“As in Wendy?”</p><p>“How do you know that?” the cadet asked incredulously.</p><p>“She was at the pub the other night,” Tandred explained. “Then, Flynn showed up at my cabin, like… well, <em>you</em> saw him. He doesn’t remember, mind. Jaina said there’s a shitload of spells on his person, and one of them very well may be a memory block.”</p><p>Taelia exchanged a worried look with Anduin. “Tandred, is there <em>anyone</em> in the keep who’s not in the ballroom right now?”</p><p>Proudmoore inhaled a sharp breath. “Lucy Waycrest’s resting in Jaina’s study.”</p><p>The cadet’s hand tightened around the young king’s. “Go fetch your sister,” she commanded as she pulled Anduin towards the staircase.</p><p>The two rushed the steps, stumbling headfirst into Jaina’s study. The candles were snuffed and no fire was stoked, leaving the office in an ominous darkness. Taelia scanned the room, finding a figure collapsed on the floor next to one of the wingback chairs near the dormant hearth. She was knelt beside her in an instant.</p><p>“Lucy?” she asked, placing a hand gently on her arm, trying to rouse the unconscious woman. “Anduin, <em>help</em> me.”</p><p>The king dropped to his knees next to her, a ball of light in his palm to lightly find where to heal the woman. Taelia glanced up, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow as she found a pair of glowing red eyes and an acid grin in the shadowed corner of the room.</p><p>“Anduin,” she whispered, “we’re not alone.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You know Taelia totally ogled. ^.~</p><p>Apologies for a shorter chapter. Comments and kudos are, as always, welcome and appreciated and send Mathias and Flynn off to do Tae's bidding. (She has them so wrapped around her little finger, I swear.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Midnight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>I don't believe in fairy tales and no one wants to go to Hell<br/>We've made the wrong decision and it's easy to see<br/>Now if you wanna serve above or be a king below with us<br/>You’re welcome to the city where your future is set forever</em>
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          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really wanted to post this on Valentines, but work is a fickle mistress and I just finished. But HEY! I'm posting before 3 am!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mathias slipped from the crowd to approach the bar, finding it empty save for a woman seated alone, the same tangle of auburn hair that had made his heart skip a beat and his breath catch the night before when he had seen it spread across the pillow of Proudmoore’s bunk. He hadn’t missed when the Lord Admiral’s captain had entered the ballroom with the waif on his arm, and he certainly didn’t fail to notice when she had looked right at him before turning tail out of the room. He shook the thought from his mind, telling himself that he was being ridiculous. </p>
<p>He kept his distance, placing an ample amount of space between himself and the girl who seemed determined to drink alone. It wasn’t his place to pry, assuming that the two had had some sort of lover’s spat that neither wanted to draw attention to, lest it bring the ire of Lady Katherine. </p>
<p>“A glass of Darkshire Apothica, please,” he muttered to the barkeep as he gained the servant’s attention. He leaned forward on the bar, keeping his focus on his hands.</p>
<p>“Darkshire Apothica? Tides, mate. When did you start drinking <em>that</em> shit?”</p>
<p>“It’s not for me, it’s for Taelia. I can’t drink while I’m technically on duty,” Mathias responded quickly. </p>
<p><em>Too</em> quickly. Mathias blinked several times. No, that couldn’t be right. The voice he had responded to was too pitched, but the cadence was flawless. Slowly, he turned his glance at the girl not two seats away.</p>
<p>Her hair fell to hide her face as her head bowed to stare into her glass. She ran her finger around the rim of the glass, a gesture that Shaw was all too familiar with, before draining the amber liquid and gesturing for another. Her sleeve slipped down her golden skin as she did so, revealing the exquisite lines of ink across the inside of her forearm. Scrawled in immaculate detail bloomed the curves and edges of a Stormwind Assassin’s dagger, <em>his</em> dagger to be precise, laid across a battered cutlass and a bed of white roses.</p>
<p>Time came to an abrupt halt and the truth hit like the full force of the Deeprun Tram ramming into him at top speed. Flynn had been there all along, just out of his reach. On Tandred fucking Proudmoore’s arm. In his <em>fucking bed</em>. Had fled the Ball because he had been spotted across the room. </p>
<p><em>Perhaps you should stop</em> looking<em> for him, hm?</em></p>
<p>Mathias inhaled a sharp breath and slowly took a step back. He abandoned the untouched glass of wine at the bar top and stalked down the row of stools, stopping just behind the maiden, taking in the immediate stillness that washed over her. He leaned in, gingerly touching the small of her back, feeling her tense beneath his fingertips.</p>
<p>“Begging pardon, lass, but I’m going to need you to come with me,” he murmured near her ear.</p>
<p>“‘Fraid I’m perfectly content right where I’m at, mate,” the girl replied with the slightest of trembles in her light voice. She took a swig of her whiskey to prove her point.</p>
<p>The spymaster grit his teeth. “As a matter of security, I must insist,” he pressed again, reaching over to pluck the glass from her fingers to set on the bar. He didn’t look at her as he wrapped his hand around her wrist and tugged, leading her to stumble from her stool, out the northeast entrance to the balcony and away from the Ball.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>@}—&gt;—</p>
<p>“Aren’t you two a pretty prize,” the witch purred acidly as she crept from the corner of the room. “The little lion and the Highlord’s sweet daughter.” A lascivious smirk played across her red lips as she stalked closer. “Not necessarily whom I was sent after, but I suppose you’ll do. I’m sure she’d be pleased to have you serve either way.”</p>
<p>Anduin held the Light in his palm before him, watching her recoil. “I will never serve the Banshee,” he growled.</p>
<p>Wendigo let out an amused laugh. “Oh, sweetling,” she chided, her grin broadening to show her perfectly white teeth, “I am not under the thrall of the Banshee. I serve the Stonewright.”</p>
<p>“The Stonewright?” Taelia repeated, still crouched over Lucy’s unconscious form. </p>
<p>“She wishes to reclaim what’s hers, for him to remember his rightful place of duty at her side.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “And your spymaster has been a Very. Naughty. Lad.”</p>
<p>“Pathonia,” Taelia whispered.</p>
<p>The witch snarled and lunged for the King, only to find herself bound in a wash of Light. She shrieked and writhed, and Anduin realized that she was vulnerable to his magic. He secured her in holy shackles, willing them to tighten their hold despite how hard she fought against her restraints. Her skin pulled back in a pallid hue, revealing the vile creature underneath.</p>
<p>“Anduin?” Jaina exclaimed as she skidded to a halt through the open study door, Tandred, Arthas, Greymane, and Valeera on her heels. “What in Tidemother’s name—“</p>
<p>“Look who’s joined the party. The pretty Proudmoore,” Wendigo cackled, “and his sister.”</p>
<p>“That’s her,” Tandred gasped. “That’s the cunt who was hanging on Fairwind the other night at the pub.”</p>
<p>Jaina approached the bound witch, an icy orb starting to form in her palm. “You will tell me how to break the curse you set upon Captain Fairwind,” she threatened dangerously.</p>
<p>The witch laughed again. “My dear Lord Admiral,” she mused thrust gritted teeth, “I must say it’s been an absolute delight every time you tried to slip a hand under those charms in an attempt to pry them loose. It’s provided a fine bit of entertainment, indeed.”</p>
<p>“Frost magic won’t work,” Anduin said, placing a hand upon Jaina’s shoulder as he moved to stand beside her before the shackled witch. “Watch.” He ramped up another ball of Light in his hand, extending it out to the witch as she tried to clamber back. She let out a sharp cry of agony, her knees buckling.</p>
<p>“You are adverse to the Light,” Jaina muttered thoughtfully. “It burns you.”</p>
<p>“Tell us how to lift the curse on Captain Fairwind,” Anduin commanded. “I’ll not ask again.”</p>
<p>The witch erupted into another fit of giggles under her gasps of breath. “You’re not asking the right questions, little lion man. You should be pondering what happens to the prince when they scorn the enchantress.”</p>
<p>“I tire of your riddles,” the King sneered. He didn’t take his eyes off her. “Bring me the bookseller,” he commanded, “and find Shaw.” He didn’t turn as his personal spy and the great worgen slipped from the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>@}—&gt;—</p>
<p>“Lemme go, damn you,” the girl whinged as Mathias pulled her into the crisp air of the balcony overlooking the Proudmoore Academy below. “You’re gonna fuck up my bad shoulder, <em>again.</em>”</p>
<p>The spymaster thrust her into the space, letting her flounder as he released his grip on her wrist. Mathias seethed, pressing his mouth into a harsh line. He crossed his arms and stared her down, the sudden pent up anger rolling off him in waves. She picked herself up, rubbing her left shoulder as it rolled beneath her hand, letting out a soft crack. He fought his blood thundering in his ears as her eyes lifted to his, devastation crossing the familiar storm-grey before she averted her gaze from him.</p>
<p>“Hi,” she managed to choke out as she quickly lifted her eyes at him and then away.</p>
<p>Mathias Shaw was nothing if not a patient man. His days as a high-ranking assassin had ingrained that into his soul. The spymaster couldn’t stop the incredulous snort that erupted from him however, the thread tied to his thin restraint splitting cleanly in half. He stood still as he watched the girl fidget under his scrutiny.</p>
<p>“<em>Hi</em>,” he repeated scathingly with a shake of his head. “Out to sea for three Light-forsaken weeks, sending me a damning note begging me to fucking <em>trust</em> you. I’ve ran my arse all over Kul Tiras for two days searching for you and all the while, <em>here</em> you are. Warming Proudmoore’s bed,” his voice cracked, betraying him. “But, no. It’s fine. <em>Hello</em>, Captain Fairwind,” he spat.</p>
<p>He watched Flynn flinch under his sudden tirade. Mathias hadn’t called him by his formal title in so long and it felt like his heart was bottoming out into his gut. Flynn bit his tongue as he stuck it out of his mouth to press the tip against his upper lip. </p>
<p>“Nothing happened,” his transformed lover began carefully. “What you saw wasn't real. It was to throw you off my tail. I promise.”</p>
<p>“So the noticeable erection in his breeches was merely a ruse as well,” Mathias growled, the heat lifting into his cheeks. “You’re expecting me to believe that?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t touch him, mate,” Flynn pleaded as he tried to take a step forward. “I would never—“</p>
<p>The spymaster recoiled, closing his eyes and exhaling the breath he had been holding. He didn’t want to be in this place again, wanting so much to believe that Flynn was <em>different</em>, that he wouldn’t do him like Edwin did. Light knew that Mathias was a difficult man to be with; his job and his duty always at the forefront, and a lifetime of stone walls built around him that could be rebuilt just as quickly as Flynn scrambled to tear them down. He couldn’t bear it if he had inadvertently pushed his beloved sea captain away as he had Ed so long ago.</p>
<p>Flynn closed his eyes and inhaled a sharp breath. “I would <em>never</em> do anything to willingly lose your trust. Mathias, I swear on everything I have ever held dear to me: my cutlasses, my ships, and <em>you</em>. I have never and would never fuck Tandred Proudmoore.”</p>
<p>“And the witch?” the spymaster asked through clenched teeth. “What about her?”</p>
<p>Flynn sighed. “Look, Tand has sworn up and down there was some girl who came around the night we went out, but I don’t remember <em>anything</em>. Jaina did me a once over and there’s at least a half a dozen or more charms and spells covering whatever curse has done this to me and one or two of them she’s convinced is some sort of memory block.” Shaw watched as he tore his glance away again, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “I don’t <em>remember</em>, but I can feel it in my gut, mate. I refuse to believe that anything happened there either. I…” he trailed, lifting his head up once more and the look on his face cut through Mathias deep. “I would feel that in my soul. Fuck charms and curses. It would <em>kill</em> me if I ever did anything <em>real</em> to hurt you like that.”</p>
<p>Flynn hung his head and wrapped his arms around himself. The air chilled and tiny flakes of snow began to settle softly around them. Mathias couldn’t say how long they stood there, two magnetic charges that always seemed to pull towards each other. Belatedly, he realized that he had closed the gap between them and removed his jacket to drape it around Flynn’s shoulders, rubbing his lover’s arms in the cold. </p>
<p>He lamented, realizing that the fight had left him as quickly as it had come on. Despite the blatant acts of stupidity that Flynn had thrust upon him the past few days, he couldn’t help but believe him. The captain had never been outright dishonest with him, and even when he tried, he couldn’t contain his honesty long. His brow furrowed and his chest pulled with a different ache, one of deep longing.</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you just come to me?” he asked softly. “Why didn’t you come <em>home?</em>”</p>
<p>Flynn let out a watery chuckle. “Come home, he says,” he muttered mirthlessly. “Take a good, long look, mate. How the fuck could I have come home?”</p>
<p>“Flynn,” Mathias muttered imploringly.</p>
<p>“D’you remember that night on the <em>Arva</em> when we swapped old injury stories? Your shin and my shoulder, hm? You remember what I said to you?” Mathias remained quiet, letting the captain gather his thoughts. “I knew which direction your pennants ran, but mine have been tied at both ends for as long as I can remember. If it had been you in this predicament, it wouldn’t have been a thought for me. But you—“</p>
<p>“Don’t say that.”</p>
<p>“It’s true though, innit?” Flynn cried, tears appearing just at his lash line and threatening to spill over his cheeks. “Until Jaina can get through this Tides damned curse, I don’t have a single thing to offer that you could possibly want. I didn’t want to come home unless I was back the way I was. For <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p>Mathias closed his eyes and leaned in, bumping his forehead with his lover’s. “When you left me on that fucking beach in Nazmir, when I sat in a cell to rot, not knowing if or when I would make my way back to you, I trusted you. When you followed me unconditionally across the whole of fucking Azeroth without asking for anything but to be by my side, I trusted you. When you pulled me back from the brink of hell, so many times, I trusted you.” He opened his eyes once more, sliding his thumb across the girl’s face to swipe away the tears that fell. “I’ve trusted you since that day we walked into the treasury and you didn't know how to shut your fucking mouth. Flynn, I trust you with my very life, body, heart and soul. I trust you more than I’ve <em>ever</em> trusted anyone, even Edwin. </p>
<p>“Right now, I couldn’t give a flying <em>shit</em> what you look like. You are more than I could have asked for, and all I could ever want. What I’m trying to say is—“</p>
<p>The words were swallowed back as Flynn surged forward to shut him up with a kiss. And there he was. Mathias could taste their favorite whiskey on his tongue. Under the layers of charms and curses that befell him, there was the hint of salt and soap that he had come to adore and had licked across his skin on so many occasions that it made him drunk just thinking about it. This was <em>his</em> Flynn. The girl pulled back with a smirk, Flynn’s smirk, and he finally started breathing again.</p>
<p>“For a man of little words,” Fairwind whispered against his lips, “you sure don’t know when to shut your gob.”</p>
<p>“Don’t expect for it to happen again,” Mathias replied with a soft chuckle, wrapping his arms around the captain’s waist into a firm embrace. It was still a bit jarring, for once being the taller of the two, and the curves of his mate definitely something different. But in that moment, the past two days fell away. Flynn was in his arms, and it was more than he could have asked for. Flynn lifted onto his toes, reaching up to nuzzle his temple with his nose, as he had done a thousand times before in a different body.</p>
<p>“You trust me, yeah?” he whispered into Shaw’s ear.</p>
<p>Mathias turned his head to look into his eyes. “I trust you,” he whispered back and kissed Flynn again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>@}—&gt;—</p>
<p>“Fell,” Valeera said quietly as she approached the small table in a shadowed corner of the ballroom. The stocky priest pulled his attention from his companion, a bubbling champagne flute at his lips.</p>
<p>“Ms Sanguinar,” he addressed cautiously. “I didn’t realize you were here to take part in the celebration, my dear.”</p>
<p>“I’m not,” she replied curtly. “The King has requested you be summoned to the northwest study in all due haste.” Her fel-green gaze flicked to the rail-thin warlock next to him, her eyes narrowing at his lecherous smirk. “You may bring your friend with you.”</p>
<p>The pair gave each other a quick look before setting down their glasses and vacating the table to follow the elf out the door. Valeera didn’t glance back at them as she led them down the empty corridor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>@}—&gt;—</p>
<p>Genn Greymane sniffed the air, using his primal senses to pull the scents that distinguished Spymaster Shaw out of the room of party goers. <em>Tanned leather, midnight ink, citrus almond oil.</em> His nose led him to the bar, where the trail began to mingle with another distinct essence that seemed to trail behind Shaw as of late. <em>Star moss and deadnettle soap, briny sea salt, top shelf whiskey.</em> The old worgen furrowed his brow. He had anticipated that Captain Fairwind would have entered the Ball at the spymaster’s side; the two had been nigh inseparable for months it seemed. Yet, Shaw had entered the party alone, keeping to a watch point behind the royal dias for a fair amount of the evening, the captain nowhere to be seen.</p>
<p>He followed the scent, growing ever stronger, out the northeast entrance to the room and onto a veranda overlooking the Keep grounds. A gust of sharp wind hackled through his bones, causing him to swiftly shift into his great worgen form, thankful for the thick pelt of fur to keep the chill and snow at bay. His ears flicked at a gasp of breath. A quick glance to the side alerted him to the couple pressed against the stone wall of the keep, tangled in a lover’s embrace.</p>
<p>Genn smirked to himself, briefly remembering the days when he and Mia were young and careless, stealing away from Balls and audiences in a wild flurry of abandoned decorum. He stole one more glance, the flash of the man’s fire red hair causing his eyebrows to rise to his ears. He cleared his throat loudly, startling the pair.</p>
<p>“Your Majesty,” Shaw remarked evenly as he pulled back from his companion. Genn noticed that he didn’t move his hands from the girl, whom he noted had been the same who had arrived on the arm of Tandred Proudmoore earlier. The worgen crossed his arms as his face schooled itself in a playfully scolding visage.</p>
<p>“Anduin’s looking for you, Spymaster,” the old dog said in response, his voice tinged with the ever present growl of his worgen nature. </p>
<p>Shaw turned back to regard the girl clutched against him. He clicked his jaw before turning back to Greymane. “With all due respect,” Shaw said diplomatically, “I’m afraid that the King has relieved me of my duties this evening. Matters of security should be taken up with Ms Sanguinar.”</p>
<p>“He was quite insistent.” </p>
<p>“I have no doubt that he was,” Shaw muttered, a wry smile playing under his moustache, “but I’m sure he will understand, nonetheless. I’ll be sure to give him a full report on the morrow. At the moment, however, I have other <em>duties</em> to attend to.” Genn didn’t fail to notice the girl burying her face into Shaw’s shoulder to stifle a giggle. “Will there be anything else, Your Majesty?”</p>
<p>“No,” he hummed in reply. “Wait, yes there is.” Shaw turned to him again with a quirked eyebrow. “You haven’t seen Captain Fairwind, have you?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sure that scoundrel is lurking around here somewhere,” the spymaster quipped, his stance faltering as his companion gave him a hefty nudge. “Just pour a glass of whiskey and I’m sure he’ll come running.”</p>
<p>Genn nodded, eyeing the pair with suspicion. “You two should probably head inside shortly. You’ll catch your death of cold out here,” he added before turning back into the keep.</p>
<p>The pair held their breaths as the old worgen turned away from them and ducked back into the warmth of the keep, both exhaling a series of laughter in his wake.</p>
<p>“What the bloody fuck was he on about, ‘seen Captain Fairwind’?” Flynn mused between fits of giggles.</p>
<p>Mathias shook his head. “He probably scented you out here with me. You’re still you, you know.” A chill went through his skin, his shin starting to squeal in a piercing throb. “He’s right, though. We should get out of this cold.”</p>
<p>“They set you up with a fancy suite in the keep?” the captain asked mirthfully.</p>
<p>“No, I’ve been staying with Taelia. At her unrelenting insistence, of course.”</p>
<p>Flynn pulled a scrunched up face. “Well that won’t do,” he remarked thoughtfully. “You know,” he began, a lascivious smirk playing upon his lips, “Melli and Nailor just set up a sweet little flat between the Winds and the Wick.” He leaned up, nipping at Mathias’ earlobe. “That means the captain’s cabin on the <em>Middenwake</em> currently has a vacancy.”</p>
<p>“Scoundrel,” the spymaster breathed as he wrapped his arms around him again, kicking them off the wall and tracing warm kisses along his lover’s cheek. He pulled back, taking Flynn’s hand in his and started to pull them towards the door of the keep so that they could slip away, startled when the captain stopped him. “What is it?” he asked as he turned to look at him with concern.</p>
<p>“You think you could do me a solid, mate?” </p>
<p>“Anything.”</p>
<p>Flynn chewed on his bottom lip sheepishly. “It's just... promise me you won’t rip the dress?” he asked as he looked down at his appearance. “I borrowed it from Jaina.”</p>
<p>Shaw smiled at him, a real genuine smile that reached his eyes. “I’ll do my best,” he replied before leading them back into the shadows.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>@}—&gt;—</p>
<p>“Oh, dear,” Fell exhaled, wide eyed as he was brought into the northwest study to survey the scene, his companion at his shoulder. “This is certainly unexpected,” he muttered as he stepped between the Lord Admiral and the King. “What is a venthyr doing on this side of the veil?” </p>
<p>“A venthyr?” Anduin asked curiously.</p>
<p>“Bloodsuckers,” the warlock supplied, “from the other side. We’ve been in and out for the past handful of months now. Nasty buggers to come across, but I try to stay away from their lands as much as I can.”</p>
<p>“Revendreth?” the priest inquired with a raised eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Aye, and trust me when I say they’re not the sort of demons you want to thwart, Angel.” The warlock stepped closer to examine the shackles holding the witch. She hissed as he approached. “And you really don’t like the Light, do you, ya timorous beastie?” he jested merrily. Wendigo snarled and thrashed against her binds.</p>
<p>Fell turned back to the young king. “I apologize, Your Grace,” he began tentatively. “I’m a bit confused as to how I can be of assistance.”</p>
<p>“The times that you have been in my audience, Mr Fell, I’ve found that your attunement to the Light is greatly steeped and possibly second to my own. I find you to be a reliable polymath in such matters, and equally versed in folklore and faerie tales. There was something that she said that has convinced me that you were the one to consult.”</p>
<p>“And that would be?”</p>
<p>Anduin turned his eyes back to the contained witch, her blood red gaze burning into him. “She mentioned a prince and a scorned enchantress.”</p>
<p>Fell hummed thoughtfully. “Ah, yes. The Maiden and the Monster.”</p>
<p>“I remember that one from when we were kids,” Tandred remarked. “Though it was called the Beast and the Harlot when I heard it.”</p>
<p>The warlock scowled, turning his attention away from the venthyr. “I don’t think that’s—”</p>
<p>“It’s not, dear boy,” Fell muttered under his breath.</p>
<p>“So, wait,” Taelia looked up from her crouch next to Lucy, “you’re saying that it’s not a curse, but a faerie tale?” </p>
<p>“Curse?” the warlock asked curiously. “Oh, you mean that captain bloke who's got his bits rearranged, yeah?”</p>
<p>“How did you…” Taelia trailed.</p>
<p>“Saw him in harbor the other day. Yeah, that’s not a curse. That’s a dreadful bit of ‘True Love’s Kiss before Midnight’, that is.”</p>
<p>“Enough,” Anduin commanded gently before turning back to Fell. “I can’t keep her in shackles forever.”</p>
<p>“And Tol Dagor doesn’t have the fortune of Light-bearers to contain her either,” Jaina offered.</p>
<p>“I have no desire to send her back to her master,” the King continued, “but I’m not sure as to where we can imprison her securely.” Fell flicked his glance to his companion. </p>
<p>“Oh, tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, Angel.”</p>
<p>“I might be, my dear,” Fell murmured. “I still have a few channels of contact at my disposal, and while I’m not exactly favored by that particular council, they may just be zealous enough to hear me out with this.”</p>
<p>"<em>Zealous</em> is one way to put it," the warlock groused, shaking his head. "You're playing with fire, Angel, and not the kind that I can stand in for you."</p>
<p>"Got any better ideas?" Fell asked him pointedly. "One single, better idea?"</p>
<p>“Do what you must. Jaina can open a portal to wherever you need to go to transport the witch.” Anduin nodded to the sorceress as she began to ramp up the spell. “Your discretion and aid is most appreciative, Mr Fell. If there is anything I can do to repay you in the future—”</p>
<p>“You can get your spymaster to stop his crusade against my coin, for one,” the warlock snipped.</p>
<p>Fell shushed his companion as they pushed the containment field through the portal. Before he dipped through himself, he turned to the king and gave a short bow. “Don’t pay him any mind, Your Grace. Your gratitude is thanks enough.” And with that, the unlikely pair were through the portal as it snapped shut. </p>
<p>Anduin crouched near Taelia once more, working healing magic through his fingers to try and rouse the Waycrest girl. His head lifted as Greymane joined them in the study, his heavy paw-steps alerting his presence. “Shaw?”</p>
<p>“Indisposed, as it were,” Genn reported as he shook himself into his human form. </p>
<p>“He’s likely with Flynn, love,” Taelia muttered. “Leave them be.”</p>
<p>“But what the warlock said,” Anduin anguished softly, “about Midnight—”</p>
<p>The cadet placed a warm hand on his arm. “They’ve still got some time. They have to figure it out on their own. Have some faith.” Anduin shot her a pointed look.</p>
<p>“Wait,” Jaina said as she turned to her brother. “Where did you hear that story told like that?”</p>
<p>“What, the Beast and the Harlot?” Tandred tilted his head with a smirk. “Derek.”</p>
<p>“Varian,” came a muttered reply from behind him. Anduin lifted his head to stare incredulously at Arthas who just shrugged at him.</p>
<p>“What’d I miss?” Lucy grumbled, her voice thick with sleep. Anduin and Taelia gingerly helped her in a sitting position and Jaina passed a conjured flagon of manawater to her. “You lot figure out it wasn’t a curse?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s on Flynn, now,” Taelia rubbed reassuring circles against the girl’s back as she sipped at the water.</p>
<p>“Well, Tides bless whoever can break the spells,” Lucy mused, “because he’s a right annoying <em>shit</em> and I don’t wish that on even my mother.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>@}—&gt;—</p>
<p>Mathias softly padded to the corner of the cabin, throwing a log into the wood stove to stoke the fire bringing heat into the room. He brushed off the detritus of the wood before scrubbing a hand down his face, glancing back at the bed. His heart felt full, though the circumstances were still pulling an odd feeling over him. He slipped back under the covers, his lover shuffling close to contain their warmth. He laid an arm around Flynn and dropped a kiss on the tangle of hair pillowed against him in deep slumber. </p>
<p>The cabin was a disaster, their fine clothes strewn about nearly every available surface. The dress borrowed from Lady Jaina was laid carefully across the captain’s estate table next to an empty vial that Flynn mentioned had been slipped to him by Taelia earlier in the evening. True to his word, he hadn’t ripped the sheer fabric in his insatiable hunger to touch his skin. The experience was definitely a new one, but Flynn had guided him around the uncharted curves that he was hardly familiar with. </p>
<p>When his hand had instinctively moved between them as Flynn slipped onto his lap and maneuvered him inside, he floundered for a moment when he couldn’t find the captain’s dick to grasp. Fairwind chuckled in his ear, taking his hand to guide it between the folds, keening in a way he’d never heard and it didn’t take long for him to spill within him with a bite to his lover’s neck and a whine in his throat.</p>
<p>He exhaled a deep sigh, pressing his cheek into Flynn’s hair and inhaling his scent, thankful that the scoundrel was with him and safe once more. He fleetingly thought over his confession made on the terrace of the keep, his heart tugging at something missing.</p>
<p>
  <em>I trust you.</em>
</p>
<p>He furrowed his brow as he ran his hand idly against his lover’s back. It was closing in on twenty years since he had said the crucial words to a lover. Back then it had been Edwin and their affair had been doomed. Perhaps he had held back because he couldn’t bear the thought of their time together being cursed the same way. Perhaps he was just a stubborn difficult man. Flynn had proven over and over how patient the impatient could be. Mathias hitched his breath shakily and leaned in to press a kiss against the head bowed against him. </p>
<p>“I love you,” he barely whispered against Flynn’s hair.</p>
<p>The figure curled around him wriggled, just a gentle stir. “Love you too, mate,” he hummed against Mathias’ chest, drifting back to sleep.</p>
<p>In the distance, the bells chimed the twelfth hour, signaling to start a new day.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will change the rating to E. We're almost there! I'm not near done with this series yet, still have a lot of mileage for these dolts. I also apologize, I kinda suck at conflict? </p>
<p>Hopefully, I can get outlines done by the end of the week for the next two.</p>
<p>Comments and Kudos are welcome and appreciated and keep an unlikely pair popping up in my fics!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Twice Upon A Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>Let's get it right. I've got a few things to say to you.<br/>Basic stuff first.<br/>Never be cruel, never be cowardly.<br/>Remember, hate is always foolish. and love is always wise.</em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Earning that E rating with this chapter. Enjoy guys!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Light, I’ve missed you.</em>
</p><p>Flynn hummed, smiling brightly with everything he had, running down the gangplank and thrusting himself into his mate’s arms, feeling the soft rumbling laugh down to his toes, through the layers of leather and linen between them. He even smiled into the kiss that Mathias was eager to bestow on him, all tongue and lowered inhibitions, hands grasping anywhere they could. The spymaster pulled back with a wild smirk, his hands reaching down to pull back the sash that covered the top of his trousers, yanking on the laces until his cock was freed, dropping to his knees to swallow him down to the hilt with a hum.</p><p>Wait. Hang on. That’s… not quite right.</p><p>Or perhaps, maybe it <em>was</em>.</p><p>Flynn blinked awake, his eyes straining against the hazy light seeping into the cabin from the porthole windows, the morning snow falling beyond them. His head throbbed with the makings of a spectacular hangover, his mind fuzzy with the fleeting memory of an evening at the pub with Tandred, and a bar wench with an ample bosom trying to sit in his lap. He vaguely remembered fending her off, telling poor Wendy that he had a mate to go home to, and the look of utter scorn that crossed her face as she stormed off. The captain tried to sit up, only to be pinned down by a strong hand and a warning nip at the underside of his dick before it was engulfed in a warm, velvet mouth.</p><p>Oh? <em>Oh.</em></p><p>“Get up, get up, <em>get up</em>.” Flynn reached down and pulled Mathias off of him. His lover’s brow furrowed in confusion as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat back on his haunches. Fairwind scrambled to sit up, looking down to take an assessment: his broad chest was pelted in downy chest hair, breasts gone, his thick cock hard and curved upwards. He ran his hands over his face, finding his bottlebrush and chin scruff back in its proper place.</p><p>“Good morning, Captain Fairwind,” Mathias murmured, his eyes dancing with mirth. </p><p>“I’m me again,” mused Flynn in awe, humming a few times to test out the tenor of his voice.</p><p>“You were <em>always</em> you, you ridiculous dolt,” Shaw playfully pointed out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He followed that particular train of thought by bending forward to take Flynn into his mouth once more, devouring his entire length and pulling back with a long, languid suck.</p><p>“Fuck me, mate,” exhaled the captain.</p><p>“Did that last night,” Mathias quipped as he lapped at the length of hardened flesh in his hand, going down again for another few bobs before pulling another hard suck, his cheeks hollowed out. Fairwind fell back against the thin mattress, savoring the attention being bestowed upon his sorely missed member when a thrilling notion crossed his mind rather expectedly.</p><p>“Waitwaitwaitwaitwait. <em>Get up, get up, get up</em>,” Flynn blurted out, pulling himself and Mathias up eagerly.</p><p>“Now what?” Shaw groused indignantly. He raised an eyebrow, watching Flynn roll to rifle through the bedside drawer.</p><p>“Slick, slick,” Flynn muttered hastily, “my kingdom for the bloody jar of slick.”</p><p>“Are you looking for this?” </p><p>Flynn turned to his lover and blinked owlishly. Mathias held the small pot in his palm with a bit of a smug smirk and a one-shouldered shrug. The captain snatched the little glass jar from his hand, earning a husky chuckle from his mate. He rushed to spread the salve over his eager cock, his sudden hunger driving him. It didn’t take but a quick shift to have Shaw on his back beneath him.</p><p>“And here I thought the request was for <em>me</em> to fuck <em>you?</em>” Mathias snerked, cut off by an inviting hum when Fairwind passed a bit of the oil over his lover’s hardening length, bringing it to full mast. A strangled whine emitted from his throat when he reached down to prod his hole with a thick finger coated in slick (and oh, did he miss that, too).</p><p>“Change of plans,” Flynn panted, slipping the digit inside to begin a delicious slide. “Need to be inside you, mate.” He added a second, stretching his spymaster and grazing that spot that made him buck beneath him with a rumbling groan that sent a rippling tremor through him. “Keep that up and this ain’t going to last but a minute,” he chided.</p><p>“Are a few sounds of encouragement too much for the infamous Flynn Fairwind?” teased Shaw.</p><p>“Cheek,” Flynn admonished, extracting his fingers. He punctuated the sentiment with a sharp smack to Mathias’ arse after hooking a knee over his shoulder and lining up to breach him. “Breathe, mate,” he murmured soothingly with his first press, slotting inside steadily until he was buried completely with short gasps.</p><p>“You were saying?” the spymaster jested, his grin faltering with Fairwind’s first thrust.</p><p>They established a familiar rhythm, Flynn trying to exercise a tight thread of restraint so as not to embarrass himself by finishing before they got started. He released Mathias’ leg and leaned over him, pressing his forehead against the older man’s shoulder. Reaching between them to take his mate’s slippery dick in his hand, he tried to pump in time to his thrusts. After three excruciatingly long weeks and one unusual altercation, it was absolute paradise to be joined with this beautiful man once again. Soon, the spymaster began to writhe erratically beneath him and he felt those long, talented fingers link with his to impatiently pick up the pace.</p><p>Good, that was good. He’d be damned if he was brought off first.</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>,” Mathias gasped, tensing as his spend coated their fingers and spread between their bellies. Flynn drew back, continuing to fuck him, so close to the edge and threatening to keel over that last little bit when Shaw ran his fingers through the mess to lick it clean. With a groan, the captain found his release. His eyes fluttered closed as they rolled back.</p><p>“You filthy, old fuck,” he rasped through the aftershocks, easing out of his spymaster to flop on his back next to him. “That was <em>magnificent</em>,” he slurred at the ceiling as he fought to catch his breath.</p><p>Mathias rolled onto his side, tangling a leg with one of Flynn’s and nipping at his shoulder gently with his teeth. “Feel better now that <em>that’s</em> out of your system?”</p><p>“Oh, you have <em>no</em> idea,” the captain replied wistfully. He leaned over to place a lazy kiss on top of Shaw’s head. His head rested back against the pillow, his eyes tracing over the thoughtful expression his mate couldn’t hide from him. “Copper for your thoughts.”</p><p>“Last night,” Mathias began curiously, “how did you know—”</p><p>“What to do?” Flynn finished for him. He shrugged. “Part instinct, I suppose. Partly ‘cause I’ve bedded a fair amount of fine bonnies in my time. Perhaps I pulled from a combination of what I knew they liked.” He scrunched up his nose as he continued. “Think of it like the first time you ever sucked off a bloke, but in reverse. You know what <em>you</em> like, so you start there and fill in the gaps of what gets their rocks off in the process. Eventually <em>something</em> will click.”</p><p>“Strangely, that makes sense.”</p><p>“Not that I want to go through that again anytime soon, mind. Or ever, for that matter. Or put <em>you</em> through that again.” He let out a soft chuckle. “I’m quite happy to have my twig and berries right back between my legs where they belong, thank you very much.” </p><p>Shaw reached down for the quilt to pull over them before settling next to him. They grew quiet, savoring the warmth of each other and the silence that came with the winter snow that fell outside the cabin. The wood stove had died down to a few softly glowing embers and Flynn absently had the thought that one or both of them would need to trek out to the Tradewinds for food and firewood. </p><p>Scratch that. <em>Mathias</em> would need to venture out; while he had some spare clothes and a pair of boots stashed on the <em>Middenwake</em>, his greatcoat was still at Tae’s. As his mind wandered alongside Mathias’ nimble fingers gently scratching through the hair bloomed across his chest, another thought passed his mind, causing his brow to knit with a small frown.</p><p>“Did you say you loved me last night?”</p><p>Mathias hummed, his eyes closed. “Yes, I did.”</p><p>“Did I say it back?”</p><p>“You were dozing in and out of sleep, but yes. Yes, you did.”</p><p>A satisfied smile played at the corners of Flynn’s lips. “‘Bout bloody time, mate.” He leaned in to kiss his mate tenderly, content for them to laze there forever, if they had the time. Which they didn’t. A quick rap at the cabin door startled them from the little world they had created for themselves in the captain’s quarters, followed by a woman’s voice calling for Master Shaw.</p><p>“The job is never done,” Mathias growled softly, rubbing his forehead. Flynn grabbed his wrist, pressing his thumb at his pulse point.</p><p>“You’re not leaving my bed,” the captain ordered, sitting up to swing his legs over the side of the mattress with a stretch and a pop in his shoulder. “I’m up, I’m up,” he called as he rose. “Tighten your corset strings, will ya?”</p><p>“<em>Fairwind,</em>” chided the spymaster. “Smallclothes, if you would.”</p><p>Flynn rolled his eyes but did as he was told, slipping on a pair of breeches from his trunk on his way to the door, swinging it open as the inky-haired kaldorei held her hand in the air, about to knock again.</p><p>“Oh hey, you’re that demon hunter,” the captain exclaimed, leaning against the door jamb, “the one with the funny name.” He clicked his fingers together a few times. “What was it again?”</p><p>She didn’t reply, her brow creasing just above her blindfold. Flynn knew from his experiences with the various champions that graced his expedition table for the better part of the war that the Illidari had blinded themselves willingly, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was boring a hard stare into his very being.</p><p>“Oh, come on,” he groused. “Just this once?”</p><p>“I wouldn't if I were you. I have an urgent missive for Master Shaw.”</p><p>“Fine, <em>spoilsport</em>,” he grumbled, kicking away from the doorway. “Mat!” he called. “S’for you, mate.”</p><p>The spymaster appeared at his side in his dress trousers from the night before. Flynn didn’t fail to notice the dampness of his skin, having quickly run a washcloth over himself in an attempt of decorum. His sex-mussed hair and moustache told a different story.</p><p>“All missives are to be vetted by Renzik, Agent. I’m currently off-duty.” Flynn snorted, earning a quick glare. Surprisingly, he kept his comment to himself.</p><p>“I am aware, sir. However, I was explicitly instructed to deliver this to your hands and your hands only.” She pulled out a scrolled parchment from a pouch strapped to her thigh and held it out to him.</p><p>Mathias took the missive from her tentatively. He noted that the page was not the familiar creamy ivory of typical Azerothian paper. It was tinged in a dusky grey, the unbroken seal a deep mossy green stamped with a delicate spider and the markings of a dagger hilt. He slipped his finger underneath, unrolling the letter to skim over the cipher. Flynn watched with concern as the annoyed scowl fell from his face and his skin paled. He placed a comforting hand on his lover’s shoulder.</p><p>“Mate?”</p><p>“<em>Where</em> did you get this?” Shaw asked shakily as he lifted his gaze back to the demon hunter.</p><p>“She handed it to me herself.”</p><p>“That’s <em>not</em> possible,” he muttered.</p><p>The illidari sighed sympathetically. “In <em>that</em> realm it is.”</p><p>Mathias rubbed his forehead disquietly, flicking a quick glance to Flynn. He reached up and tugged at his goatee as he gathered his thoughts. “Are there portals established to this place?”</p><p>“There are, sir.” she nodded. “She also requested that I accompany you as escort.”</p><p>Shaw nodded. “Give me two bells,” he replied. “I’ll…” Flynn bit his lip as the spymaster turned his glance to him. “<em>We</em> will meet you in the portal room in Stormwind.”</p><p>“We?”</p><p>“If this is from who I believe it’s from, then I dare not think of who else in that place can try and reach me,” Mathias said cautiously. “I need you there to have my back, Flynn.”</p><p>Fairwind inhaled a sharp breath and gave a quick nod. “Yeah, of course, mate.”</p><p>Shaw turned back to his operative. “Thank you, Agent. Two bells. You’re dismissed.”</p><p>The demon hunter gave a curt bow and disappeared out of the cabin. Shaw exhaled the breath he had been holding and gave Flynn a once over before glancing about the cabin. The captain noted when his eyes fell on the dress laid across the table. “I assume you have something suitable to wear?”</p><p>Flynn snorted. “Yeah, I’ve got some spare clothes. Need to pop off to Tae’s for my coat and the <em>Melody</em> for my effects.”</p><p>A quick raise of the brow crossed Mathias’ face. “The lass saw to your laundry the other night. Go on, fetch your things and my pack, if you would. But be quick about it. No more than fifteen, Flynn. I mean it. We still need to run through the flat and my office before we are due in the portal room.” </p><p>Fairwind put himself together in record time, Mathias opting to retrieve the pieces of his suit from the previous evening until they returned to his little flat in Old Town for a fresh uniform. Flynn stood for a moment with his hand on the door handle.</p><p>“Hey.” He turned to his spymaster with a small hopeful smile. “You love me, yeah?” he asked softly.</p><p>Mathias’ lips quirked in return. “Yeah. I love you.”</p><p>When Flynn ducked out of the cabin, Shaw dropped into the nearest chair at his estate table. His eyes skimmed over the missive one more time, the handwriting and cipher as perfect as the last one he had personally received from her hand  alerting him of Baros’ death.</p><p>
  <em>Calling in a favor.<br/>
A debt repaid, if you like.<br/>
Maldraxxus.<br/>
Hurry.</em>
</p><p>Mathias scratched his hand through his hair before scrubbing it down his face with a sigh.</p><p>“The job’s not done, is it Amber?”</p><p>@}—&gt;—</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And here we are at the end of this curious lovesong to our dear Captain, but we aren't done yet. Still have quite mileage left and we are closing in on completing some of the gaps I have opened since Second Star. Two more parts in the works, and possibly more from there. I'm not nearly done with these two yet. Or Tae and Himself. </p><p>I had to call back to my favorite line from the Treasury Heist. I may have finally changed my text notification to that after six years of Sylvanas telling me she's not going to sing for me.</p><p>I appreciate all of you for taking the time to read through this ridiculous idea that I still fully lay blame at Blizz's feet for. My dear rogue on Stormrage will be pleased to be switched back to his darling Captain self again just in time for Blizzcon. Comments and kudos are always welcome and they are definitely not too much for the infamous Flynn Fairwind.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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